No Matter What
by mystical-blaise
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester travel south to investigate mysterious killings in a small Virginia town. Dean's wife, Abigail, tags along to help investigate and ends up running into someone from her past.  Some characters taken from my original SPN Fics
1. Action

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

If you are interested in reading the other stories, please visit my profile where links are provided for each of installments.

* * *

_November 2010  
_

"You sure you're all right with this," he asked over the phone, worry permeating through his tired, husky voice.

"I'm fine," she assured as she carefully strolled in her high heels across the slick street. "Look, we need info, I can get it."

Dean sighed, a sign that he was going to give up trying to convince her it was dangerous, but was not going to give up worrying.

"Be careful. Sam and I aren't far. You've got 20 minutes to get in touch with us before we hunt your ass down," he murmured. "It's just been awhile since we've done any of this-"

He was right. It had been years since they'd agreed to take a case, many more since it was one where they worked on together. Usually, if they did take on hunts, they made sure that at least one of them remained home. For their family, their three kids, leaving the opportunity for both of them to be hurt or worse in the line of duty, it was a risk they weren't willing to take.

That was, until _that_ particular case they were working on crossed their paths. Vampires. Her specialty.

After all, if anyone could figure out if a town was truly plagued with them, it would be a vampire.

"Take care," he huffed over the phone. "Be careful. Don't do anything stupid."

"Got it. Love you too."

She hung up the phone and got to work. He didn't have any reason to worry. After all, she was just as professional as the Winchesters, only she also had over a hundred years experience.

Abby brushed back her ebony hair, took a deep breathe and walked into the restaurant.

* * *

"I don't know about this place, Sam. There's something off."

"What, vampires aren't enough crazy for you," Sam joked in the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean turned towards his brother, who was busy doing some research on his laptop, stealing internet from the cafe across the street.

"Huh. Now this is interesting-this place has a _history_ of vampire activity," Sam said as he found some information on some 'reliable' web page.

"What kinda history? Like real evidence of vampires or a history of cult, Twi-hard teens running around here," Dean asked his younger brother, who was intently scrolling down the web page as he listened to his older brother rant. "I swear, ever since those freakin' book and movies came out, it's made our lives harder. 'Vampire' sightings have been everywhere and if I have to catch one more Emo-dork wearing glitter to impress a chick, I'm going to be pissed."

"No, it's not like that. This stuff sounds pretty legit. Listen to this. There's this legend that there was a hoard of vamps taken out in _1864_. They were captured and put in the local church and burned to death. The townspeople banded together and the founders of the village took them out. There hasn't been any activity since then-at least none that's documented," Sam said.

"So, what are you thinking? I mean, they just tried to burn them, right? They didn't take enough off the top; so, maybe this is the same group from 1864-"

"Or," Sam interjected. "A different Nest settling in-or a neighboring nest coming back for revenge? I don't know, man. If vamps had settled here long before, maybe they've always just lived here peacefully and something has riled them up."

Who knew what they were up to; could be anything. One thing was for sure, they weren't making the deaths less obvious to cover their tracks. Animal attacks? Dean couldn't figure out why people still would believe that crap. What animal goes around attacking that many people for weeks-months even, and leaves little to no blood? That didn't make any sense and it shouldn't, even for people who didn't suspect the supernatural.

It was funny how the simple folks in 1864 got it right, but the people of 2010 were completely clueless. No, they'd rather pay five dollars for a cup of coffee and go home to watch their DVR, pretending to be completely oblivious.

Part of Dean _wished_ he had that ability. Why the hell was he sucked back into the hunting lifestyle? He'd sat back for years, taking only side jobs, only if they were emergencies.

Sure, he'd admit that every waking moment, he was scared for his family's safety. What if his past came back and hunted him down? He'd die before he let something happen to his kids. Those kiddos were his life and he would do anything to make sure they grew up protected and normal. They didn't know anything about his hunting lifestyle and he was going to keep it that way as long as humanly possible.

Even if he could keep his own past away from them, there was always the chance that Abby's could sneak up on them; she'd been around since 1700-something. That's a lot of time to piss people off.

God, when he thought about it, she was old. Really old, ancient even. He had to laugh when he thought about her as a cougar; she did go after a much, much younger man.

Dean smiled to himself. It still boggled his mind how he ended up with her. For the longest time, he was so damned sure that the supernatural world was completely black and white; all of the non-humans needed to be ganked. Then, during one seemingly routine vampire hunt in Red Lodge, Montana, his world got completely flipped, and shades of gray began to pop up. It wasn't clear what those tinges of doubt meant until he met his future wife during an investigation in Chicago, that he saw that creatures may not all be bad. Some just had intentions like anyone else and expected the same respect they gave humans; you don't kill them, they don't kill you. He could roll with that.

His eyes anxiously glanced at the clock on the car's console. She had ten more minutes to get in touch with him and then he was goin' in. Dean may have trusted her ability as a hunter, but that didn't mean he wasn't nervous when she was scoping stuff out on her own.

His brother must have sensed his tension.

"She'll be fine," Sam reassured. "She was right, she's the only one who'll have better luck spotting them on her own. Besides, it'll look less suspicious having one person scope the place out versus three of us."

Dean sighed, trying to let out any stress; didn't seem to work.

"Yeah. I'm just freakin' antsy 'cause I want to get this job over with. I just wanna home and have a Happy Thanksgiving. I just want turkey with the fam and football. So let's gank these vamps and get the hell outta Mystic Falls. Who in the blue hell names a town _Mystic Falls _anyway?"

* * *

Abby sat at the bar in the Mystic Grill, taking a sip of her martini, pretending to focus on the conversation she was having with the bartender. In actuality, she was concentrating on just about everything else around her.

She had her senses on overdrive, keeping track on many exchanges throughout the establishment all at once. Some may have called her telepathy a gift but she would argue the 'gift' came with a horrendous cost. Using her mind for such feats was a terrible strain on her, bordering on mental exhaustion.

On top of that, she was doing her best to mentally block her own thoughts from anything supernatural that might have the ability to intrude on them. It was as if she used her mind to make a mental vervain; she could focus her telepathy to create an almost force-field of mental energy around her that she could control. Her mind could reach out to listen to others, but that powerful shield kept others from probing into her own thoughts. Who knew if any of the vamps in town had other abilities, telepathy possibly included in the mix. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"You're not from around here, are you," the male bartender flirted as he wiped down the counter.

"Hmmm...what makes you say that," she smiled, stirring her drink.

"We usually don't get anybody as...exotic as you," he winked.

_Exotic? _What made him use that particular phrase?

"What I mean is," he leaned over the bar to whisper. "Half the time, all we get in this place are the local girls, mostly coming in for a snack after the high school lets out for the day. They're all blonde and bubbly-boring and annoying. There are very few..._unique_ girls in town. I guess I screwed up that compliment, huh?"

"No, no. I was just a little...confused," she admitted with a chuckle.

She took a sip of her drink again, sneaking a quick glance at her watch. Abby had eight minutes before Dean would have a conniption fit.

The glittering diamond in her wedding ring shone under the dim light, reminding her that he was only crazy because he was crazy about _her_. He'd lay his life on the line for her and she would do the same in return.

With a breathe, Abby closed her eyes and took her few remaining minutes in the bar to use, focusing on the conversations of others around her.

'_...you don't get a redo when you hit the eight-ball on the break, dude. I win.'_

'_...seriously, Bonnie, I think you should wear blue more often. It looks great on you.'_

'_...I should get home, Stefan. It'd getting late and Jenna will have a fit.'_

'_Ok, Elena. Let's go.'_

Someone sighed beside her. _Deeply_ sighed. Whoever it was definitely down in the dumps.

Abby kept her eyes closed, centering her power, but whoever was seated next to her was throwing off her concentration.

"Yo, bartender," he said, sadness in his voice. "I need another one."

He slammed a glass down on the counter.

She opened her eyes, getting ready to either move away from the guy or leave the Grill all together. With Mister Depression in the vicinity, she wasn't going to get any signals. Plus, she was already pretty worn out.

Abby made her decision to just go back to the Dean and paid her tab, rising out of her chair to leave. At that exact moment, the man next to her managed to turn around and they collided, causing his drink to spill all over her top.

"Shit," she said, grabbing a handful of napkins from the bar, dabbing her red, v-neck shirt.

"Here, let me help," he said, blotting her chest with his own handful of paper towels.

"Hey," she scolded, pushing his hands away from her.

Abby finally looked up at his face and her mouth immediately going from scowl to disbelief.

Him? _HIM?_ HE was in _MYSTIC-FREAKIN-FALLS?_

His eyes met hers with realization.

"Abby," he smirked. "Abigail Stuart. What brings you to this town? I haven't seen you in-what thirty years?"

"Damon Salvatore."

That's all she could say.

Her head began to pulse, her mind jumbled with so many thoughts and questions. Her heart clenched.

She thought she was going to throw up or pass out but couldn't quite decide what to do at that exact moment. She was at a loss.

"Come on, you need some air," he said, leading her by the arm towards the front of the bar.

He escorted her through the exit, guiding passed the bar and her down the sidewalk.

Took her a minute to realize that she had no idea where they were going or where _in the hell he_ was taking her.

She stopped abruptly, causing him to stroll ahead of her and halt when he realized her hand slipped from his own.

He pivoted around, rolling his eyes at her.

"What," he groaned.

"_What_," she responded. "You have to ask _what_?"

"Well, yeah I do," he smirked. "It's good seeing after this long-you're still looking _ravishing_."

He took her hand in his, bending down to kiss it. She pulled away before he got the chance.

"Ouch," he complained. "You're breaking my heart, Abby."

She scrutinized him, this time _really_ taking a good look at him. He hadn't changed one bit. Well, it wasn't like she expected a drastic transformation. After all, they were both locked in perpetual youth, a snapshot in time that would never change.

One thing did remain the same; he still rendered her breathless with his mischievous smile and his captivating, blue eyes.

There was one more thing that transfigured; she was still mad at him.

Then, once she remembered why she was in town in the first place-that made her furious.

"The question is...why are _you_ here," she asked, approaching him with intimidation, her charcoal eyes seething.

He stood his ground.

"It's my hometown," he shrugged. "I had business here."

"What _kind of_ business," Abby whispered, her face tilted upwards towards his. "There's been an awful lot of mysterious deaths in town. Your work?"

He smiled down at her, brushing a piece of stray black hair behind her ear.

"Maybe. Not all of them though. This town is having it's share of...issues right now."

"Are you the one who is doing the killings," she cut to the chase, her stomach clenching from nervousness. For, if he was the one who was to blame, she knew what she had to do to rectify the situation. Even with their history soured, she'd have a hard time going through with it.

Without warning, he pulled her off to the side and around the corner. Damon pushed her against the brick facade of the Mystic Grill. His eyes searched either side of the empty alley, looking for any witnesses who could be watching their scene. Even if someone didn't quite know what was going on, their altercation couldn't have looked good.

"Listen, in the beginning, we're talking months ago-yeah I'll admit I did my fair share, but I swear to you that I'm not doing it now," he said, his face serious. "Look, you have to be discreet who you talk to about this around here. There's more going on in this place than you know."

She wanted to believe him, but part of her was jerking her away from the concept. Damon Salvatore was never just honest, he was a man who had a consistent ulterior motivation.

"Listen, just get the hell out of town as soon as you can," he whispered in her ear. "You're not safe here."

"Funny, I was gonna say the same thing about you," a voice said from behind him.

Damon smirked.

Before she could vocalize a warning, Damon spun around and pinned Dean against the stone wall on the other side of the alleyway. Dean kicked hard, his foot meeting the vampire's hard flesh, causing his foe to fall to the ground. Damon quickly rebounded, knocking the machete from Dean's hand. It clanked against the wet pavement.

"You're not from around here either," Damon smiled smugly.

"Neither am I."

Sam knocked into Damon, hitting him off kilter. The vampire rapidly bounced back, his eyes turning into bloodshot pools, angry purple surrounding the sockets, his dangerous canines extending. He lunged at Sam, who took a well-intentioned slice at him with his knife but Damon was just too fast.

"Damon, _stop_," Abby screamed, pushing the vampire away at lightning speed.

He stared at her with a wondering expression.

"You _know_ these assholes," Damon asked. He looked at them again, with their weapons close at hand. "They're hunters?"

His eyes turned into steely slits as he stared her down. Wordlessly, she placed herself between him and the Winchesters.

It was then the male vampire truly understood her gesture.

"You're with them," he scoffed.

"Actually, she's with me," Dean huffed, placing himself in front of her.

"Dean, seriously, let me handle this-"

"Why did he have you pressed up against that wall," Dean asked over his shoulder back at Abby.

"Let's just call it a lover's quarrel," Damon simpered.

"What," Dean and Sam responded in unison.

"Well, _ex_-lover," Damon continued. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. Too bad the infatuation didn't last long."

That particular comment tore at her like no other, reopening a very old wound. He _knew_ what he did.

Abby gingerly pushed Dean aside and blurred up to meet Damon. He smiled down at her, one side of his mouth cruelly turned upward, as if everything was a joke. Well, _she_ certainly wouldn't be that time around.

She slapped him hard across his face with such force, his head was forced to the side.

"Go to Hell, Damon," she hissed.

"Damon, what's going on," a voice called from behind them.

Her foe's eyes looked over her shoulder and he lowered his shoulders in defeat.

"Look, the cavalry is here! Don't worry, it's nothing, just some hunters and this," he pointed his finger down to Abby. "This will surprise you."

Abby turned around, hearing the footsteps coming closer. Sam and Dean concealed their weapons but kept them in a readied position just in case.

She stared at the approaching pair; a man and a young woman ventured ever closer. But there was something else she sensed, something different about the male. Then there was the way Damon had addressed him...

"It's ok," she turned to Dean. "He's a friend."

"Abby," the male stranger called, walking faster towards her.

Once she finally got within reach, she wrapped her arms around him.

"Stefan. It's so good to see you," she hugged her old friend.

"Funny, _he_ gets a hug and _I_ get a slap in the face," Damon inquired.

Abby spun around, facing Damon once more.

"You're just lucky that I didn't kill you. And, perhaps I still might. There's always a chance."

Damon took casual but purposeful step forward, his grin beaming with cocky arrogance.

"I look forward to when you _might_ try again. Maybe next time you can leave Starsky and Hutch at home and we can meet one-on-one."

With that, he walked away, bumping his shoulder into Dean, and strode out of the alley.


	2. Show Don't Tell

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

_

* * *

_

Dean watched as Abby once again embraced her friend.

"It's been a long time," her pal acknowledged, pulling her back to get a better view of her. "You look great."

"As do you," she smiled.

Her friend glanced from her to the brothers.

"Sorry, I don't mean be rude. I'm Stefan. Stefan Salvatore," he extended his hand to Dean, who took it in return. He could tell by the strong grip and cold touch what he truly was; a vampire. Why was it always vampires?

"Dean Winchester," he said. Stefan released his grip and offered his hand to Sam, who introduced himself.

"May I introduce," Stefan pulled his female companion to his side, "my girlfriend-Elena Gilbert."

"Elena, what a beautiful name," Abby exclaimed, presenting herself to his girlfriend. "I thought you were going home to see a...Jenna was it?"

Elena's dark eyes became large with surprise and she turned to Stefan for an explanation.

"_Vampire_ hearing," he quietly noted. Elena nodded with realization. "Furthermore, she is telepathic, so she can read minds. Some of us have acquired special talents."

A talent was something one earned and worked for; telepathy was definitely more of a curse.

_'Like Damon with the fog and crow control,' _Elena thought.

"Exactly," Abby exclaimed to a shocked Elena. "I apologize. I usually don't go around peering into people's thoughts. It's just rude. It won't happen again."

Stefan looked behind him, startled by a noise.

"Listen," he said. "My brother is wrong about most things, but he _is_ right that this town is having difficulties. Come with us to the boarding house on the other side of town. It's my family home. We can discuss more there."

"Sounds fine," Abby said, turning to Dean who was giving her a questionable look. She rolled her eyes, turning back to Stefan. "We'll be there."

Stefan suggested they follow him, as his place was more off the beaten path; people who were not locals would have a hard time finding it. Abby agreed with him. He smiled and asked where they parked, telling them to wait there and he'd drive around to where they were located. From there, they could follow. Dean, Sam and Abby strolled back to the Impala, the boys taking seats up front while she was in the backseat.

As soon as the doors closed, Dean turned around in the driver seat.

"Um, yeah, so whatever happened to us working as a team," he reprimanded Abby.

"Dean-," Sam began. Dean put his hand up. Driver had the floor.

"Excuse me," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him 'that look.'

"You're excused," he smirked, "but seriously, come on, Ab! You expect me to go to that guy's house-no I'm sorry, that _vampire's_ house in the middle of no where, in a town that's had a lot of people drank to death like a Capri Sun? Does that make any sense?"

Abby tisked him, explaining that she knew Stefan well and reassured he was a good man.

"I thought we were past the all-vampires-are-bad bullshit," she exclaimed. "Come on, Dean!"

That wasn't it all and was a cheap shot on her part. For some reason, she was taking it personal that he may not have trusted her friend. It wasn't it at all; it had nothing to do with trusting her judgment. No, it was just freakin' stupid to trust ANYONE in a town engulfed in weirdo murders.

"Look, he's a good man, guys," Abby addressed both the brothers, looking back and forth between the two. "I've know him for a long time...and I'd trust him with my life."

"Are you sure about that," Sam asked. She nodded.

Sam looked at Dean and shrugged.

"At least we'd get to check them out-get a chance to see if it's them or something else," he suggested.

Dean looked between the two of them; he was outnumbered.

With a huff, he turned around in the seat.

Stefan's car appeared on the street perpendicular to the street where their car was parked. His car pulled over and waited for them to follow.

Dean grumbled and put the car into gear.

"Fine. We'll go but if I see any vampy biz, we're outta there," he said.

They said okay and Dean pulled out of the spot to follow his car, a '67 Camaro. At least the guy had taste.

* * *

Abby sat quietly in the backseat of the Impala, quietly mulling over how their seemingly simple little hunt turned into an odd reunion.

Stefan and Damon Salvatore; that was certainly a blast from the past.

Abby kept her thoughts focused on task at hand. Murders. Vampires. That's what she would allow herself to think of.

Dean glanced at her in the rear view mirror. She grinned at him, trying her best not to appeared worried or shocked. Everything was fine. Everything was fine.

They stopped in front of the Salvatore boarding house. She was fine.

They followed Stefan and Elena into the hall and into their grand family room. She was fine.

She noticed a silhouette standing in front of the fireplace, drinking scotch. It was Damon. She was no longer fine.

He continued staring at the fireplace, taking a sip; he knew they were there.

"What is d-bag doing here," Dean whispered to Sam, nodding towards Damon.

"I see Cagney and Lacey are here," Damon sniped, turning towards the group and knocking back the rest of his drink. "And, I see _she's_ here as well. I'll be upstairs."

With that, Damon slammed his glass onto the wet bar, cracking the bottom, before striding casually up the stairs.

"What the hell is with that guy," Dean asked, motioning towards the landing.

Stefan blurred off quickly, catching Dean and Sam a little off guard. Elena and Abby appeared unscathed. He returned just as fast, this time with five beers in hand. He tossed them to Dean and Sam and opened two for Elena and Abby.

"Thanks, man," Sam asked. Dean raised his beer to him in a toast and took a swig.

"What's with my brother...that's a question I've asked myself for oh a hundred years or so," Stefan smiled. "Please, sit." He gestured to the largest, comfortable seating surrounding the fireplace in the massive room.

Stefan stood as the rest of them sat down, taking a seat on the couch close to Elena. Dean sat in a large leather chair, Abby perched on the arm. Sam decided to remain standing, instead choosing to stoke the roaring fire.

"Damon is...something else," Elena smirked. "It's been interesting since he's come to Mystic Falls."

"I hear this is your hometown," Abby said before taking a sip of her drink. "Funny how I never heard of it before."

"You know our kind-we keep our history discreet for safety reasons. But, yes, this is our hometown, last time I was here was 1953. Last time my brother came into town was long before that."

"Well, you said some weird stuff was going on in this town. Spill the beans," Dean asked.

Stefan explained some of the deaths, acknowledging that indeed a few were Damon. He apologized for his brother's impulsive reckless nature. Abby figured Damon heard that from upstairs, probably chuckling to himself that his brother was once again trying to cover his older brother's ass. That's what brothers did for each other.

Dean said he'd drink to that.

"I think all things considered, you've been a great brother to him," Elena said, patting Stefan's thigh.

"Thanks, but I wish I had done better," Stefan sadly smiled.

"Don't we all," Dean whispered low enough for the humans to hear, but it was still loud enough for the vampires in the vicinity to catch.

"Well mine is a special case," Stefan said.

Dean and Sam looked at him with intrigue.

Stefan smiled and told his story of how he and his brother were born and raised in Mystic Falls, Virginia. Then, how when they were teens, Stefan stayed on at home to study while Damon disobeyed his father and went off to war as a member of the Confederate army. Things were great with the brothers, they were closer than eve-r-that was until one Katherine Pierce. She was beautiful, and actually looked exactly like Elena, which the Winchester boys didn't take to heart.

Elena went over to an old book and pulled out a crumbled photo.

"Holy lord," Dean swallowed, almost choking on his beer. "You guys are like twins."

"More than that Dean-this is like doppleganger type lore," Sam said.

Stefan and Elena nodded, hinting that yes, Elena was Katherine's doppleganger.

"Katherine came around in 1864 and I was attracted to her. Katherine and I had a thing, and without my knowledge at the time, Damon and Katherine had a thing. I...I thought I was in love with her but now I know I was just compelled."

"Compelled," Sam said. "Like what Abby's brother could do?"

Stefan nodded.

"Damon loved her though. He was compelled as well but he will deny it to this day."

How true. Abby knew that better than anyone when it came to Damon Salvatore.

"She was a vampire. Katherine trusted us enough to reveal herself to us, take our blood, doing a blood exchange. I don't know why I did it, but I did. The town's founders were engulfed by lore and superstition. Hunters, such as yourselves, lived freely among us-including my father. The vampires in the town weren't harming anyone; they were no danger to the greater community. And Katherine-I didn't believe she could hurt anyone.

I over heard a plan by the Council, created by the founders, to round up the vampires using a device that was a compass designed to point towards vampires.

I begged my father not to let the roundup be done, but alas, he caught on. He spiked my drink with vervain. When Katherine fed on me; she was discovered. Damon never forgave me for talking to my father regarding those matters.

Katherine was taken into custody. When we tried to help her escape; we were shot. First Damon, then me. We were dead. That is to say, we were dead _until_ the vampire blood brought us back. Katherine's nursemaid, Emily, also happened to be a witch and knew-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean interrupted. "Let me get this straight, so far, we've had vampires; a whole slew of them. Then, dopplegangers and a freakin' witch?"

"Well, we have another witch," Elena looked up pondering, "and you can add werewolf to the list."

"Sammy, this is like a hunter's paradise here! No wonder the council had such luck; it's like shooting fish in a barrel here..."

Abby, Sam and company were giving Dean a dirty look. He apologized for interrupting.

"Well, Emily informed us that in order to turn into a vampire, you had to finish the process by ingesting human blood. Otherwise, you'd die; Damon and I decided on the latter. There was no life without Katherine. I went back home to say goodbye to my father," he paused to shake his head. "You know, when I was alive, all I wanted was for my father to be proud of me. Turns out, my father was the one who had pulled the trigger."

Dean and Sam stopped drinking and looked at each other. If anyone would know about disappointment and father's it was them. Turned out the three men in the room had a lot more in common than once previously thought.

"I got angry, things got out of hand...he began to bleed...and I couldn't stop myself. I got myself turned and then...then I compelled a girl and brought her to Damon and I convinced him to do it. He opposed and yet still found it hard to resist. And that is how I turned my brother."

Everyone remained silent. The only movement was Elena grabbing Stefan's hand.

Abby could feel the kindness and love radiating from the young woman nestled up to Stefan. She was gorgeous for sure, but there was more than just looks. There was something inside her that told Ab she was good for Stef.

"The things that are happening in town are a mixture of old vampires running a muck, a rogue werewolf and Katherine. Apparently, she's back in town," Elena said.

"Well I'm sure Damon's happy about that. Maybe that's why he's in such a stellar mood," Abby said, finishing with a swig of her drink.

Stefan and Elena shifted uncomfortably in their seats. That was a sure sign that Katherine's intent on returning back to town wasn't Damon; she had other motives.

"We'll get back to that, it may actually have to do with the rest of your case. At least the Katherine part, she's done her share of killings," Stefan revealed.

"Like who," Sam questioned, pulling out a list of names from his pocket.

Aimee Bradley, check. Although, there were many near deaths attributed to Katherine as well.

"Damon has done his fair share mind you, but not as of late."

"So...do you guys partake in beverages of the...human variety," Sam asked.

Stefan shrugged.

"I used to live off of, what Damon referred to as the 'bunny diet,' but recently I've come accustomed to...donor blood," he lowered his eyes, Elena squeezed his hand.

Uh. oh.

Dean shifted in his chair.

"Please don't tell me that you take from...her," he pointed to Elena.

"That's precisely what I do; I only take a little bit everyday. I make sure not to take enough to hurt her in anyway," he explained, his face full of sincerity.

"I give willingly. He needs...wants to be stronger to fight Katherine if she escapes the tomb or if anything worse shows up," Elena elaborated, her face falling.

'_It's all my fault,' _she said in her head.

Abby tilted her head, puzzled.

"What about you two," Elena said, looking back between Abby and Dean. "Abby, do you...and Dean share?"

"No," the couple chimed in together.

"Sorry, dude, I'm just not into that," Dean said, putting his empty glass bottle on the table. "But you guys do what you want."

Abby looked at Stefan and Elena and shrugged. What could she say? She made a promise to Dean that she would never, EVER, under any circumstances, take blood from him. It was part of their vows for each other, one that was solely based on trust. She would never dream of it.

"To each their own," Abby tried to smooth any wrinkles in the conversation.

Stefan inquired into the brother's roles as hunters; how they got started, where they came from.

Sam started to tell the story from the beginning but Dean was getting annoyed. The elder brother did not like everyone in the world to know their sorted history front-to-back, especially since he wasn't sure yet if the Salvatore's were completely trustworthy.

"Look, we grew up like this and it's our job," Dean cut to the chase. "Now can we get back to the case here? I need to know more these deaths, that Katherine chick and whatever else the hell could be going on in this berg."

"Sure. Let's go to the study and have some drinks and I'll give you the lowdown on everything," Stefan stood up. Dean and Sam followed suit, stretching as they rose. Stefan put a hand out to Elena who declined, insisting she wanted to stay by the fire.

Abby said she was going to stay too. After all, she curious about the human girl and wanted to get to know the woman who so clearly enamored Stefan. Plus, there could be some knowledge that her vampire companion might not have; something that Elena was keeping to herself.

The men moved to the study and the girls stayed out in the vast great room, still engulfed in the warmth of the fire and coziness of the furniture.

"So, how did you end up with a vampire," Abby asked Elena.

"How did you end up with a human," Elena smirked.

"I have a thing for humans," she admitted to her new human friend. After all, they already bonded on one point.

They both understood the complications of such non-conformist relationships. It was something they shared. That was a start.

One after the other, shared their relationship histories; how Elena met Stefan at school and Abby met Dean while undercover on a hunt in Chicago.

Elena finally saw the glinting on Abby's left finger and smiled.

"You're married," Elena smiled, and moved closer to get a better look at the ring.

Abby nodded.

"A few years now."

Elena was beaming, it clearly gave her hope to see that a relationship such as theirs, hers and Stefan's, _could_ work.

"And, we have 3 children," Abby continued.

"Adopted," Elena inquired.

"No, they're ours," Abby took out her purse and extracted a picture of their brood from her wallet. She pointed out April, Dylan, and Jamie in the photo.

"They're adorable. But, what I don't understand is how...how are they _yours_...if you're a vampire?"

"Well, I'm not a 'made' vampire like Stefan and Damon. I'm descended from the Originals, who were born this way; they could have children naturally. They also created vampire through the blood exchange that changed the Salvatores. We're just basically a different breed; I'm referred to as a Lamia," Abby explained.

Elena puzzled by the fact that Stefan hadn't told her about the Lamia more than anything else but appeared to not be in shock. She said that in Mystic Falls, new things happened everyday. It was now the capital of the weird.

She tried to imagine herself in Elena's shoes. Normal, popular girl life and then her parents died in an accident, which Elena thought about frequently, happened and her old life disintegrated. The deaths of ones parents was bad enough; Abby would know. Add to that vampires and other crazy supernatural occurrences, and Abby was surprised at how seemingly well Elena was doing, seemingly being the key word.

Abby's phone rang.

It was Gwen, her best friend, vampire-confidant, and fearless babysitter, on the phone.

"Excuse me I have to take this. It could be about my kids. Is there a room I may speak in private?"

"Sure, upstairs, first left is the library," Elena said. "I'll hold down the fort. I hope everything is okay."

"I'm sure it is," Abby replied as she raced up the stairs, hitting talk on her cell. Her own greeting of 'hello' was met by screaming.

"Ab! Oh thank god you picked up," Gwen stammered.

Abby's heart began to thud as she ran into the library and closed the door behind her.

"What's wrong," worry permeated through her voice.

"I've tried everything; talking, leaving, toys, food, juice, milk, tv...NOTHING has worked. Jamie will not go to sleep!"

Abby sighed. Well, at least it wasn't a real emergency.

"Put the phone on speaker and put it by the crib." The phone clicked over and she could hear her baby over the monitor. "Hi baby boy," she cooed. Jamie's cries started to decrease. Good, it was working.

She sang her favorite lullaby for him over the phone: _Sweet Baby James _by James Taylor.

His small sounds began to diminish as she continued to sing the song to him and by the time she was done, he was out like a light.

"Thank you," Gwen whispered. "You're a lifesaver."

"No, thank you. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Give them all kisses from us," Abby murmured as she ended the call, her heart a little sad that she was so far away from her kids at that moment.

"How _sweet_."

She turned around, finding Damon leaning against the closed door, swirling his drink in his hand, the ice clinking in the glass. What a surprise; he was still a drunk.

Abby walked up to him and told him to move.

"N-ot...until you tell me who were _singing_ to," he said, placing his arm on the door frame, blocking her.

"Why do you care," she retorted.

Damon shrugged, disclosing it was just a mild curiosity.

"My son."

Damon stopped swirling the contents in his glass. He was obviously shocked that she had kids. She knew that in the past, long before when they had met as younger vampires, both had lamented in the fact that she was told she couldn't have any. Well, things changed in threes; hers involved having three beautiful children.

The surprise was already wearing off in his eyes.

"Good for you," he said, finally noticing the ring on her left hand. He quickly grabbed her wrist and tilted her hand back and forth and snorted. "Cute. So which one of those are you married to: Sasquatch or Grumpy?"

"Grumpy...I mean Dean," she said as he smirked. "I'm married to Dean."

"Can I ask something? How in the hell, after all you've been through..._we've_ been through, marry a hunter," Damon seethed, walking forward from the door, pressing her back with his stride.

"He's not like other hunters. You'd know that if you didn't treat people like shit and talked to them instead of making asinine assumptions," she said, trying to move around him as he was comparing her to abuse victims on the Maury Povich show who always stood up for their men. "You know, I could still kill you, Damon."

"Look at Miss Badass...or should I call you Mrs. Badass now. Sounds very matronly," he grinned his famous crooked smile. "And, _you_ can't kill me, sweetie. I know you're still on a cute Disney animal diet and me; I'm still hooked on human. So, no, hun, you can't beat me."

Abby noted that it's not like she hadn't kicked his ass before in the same condition.

"Oh please, I _let_ you win every time," Damon scoffed. "Besides, I knew where every fight we had led us...and it was worth fighting with you to get to that part." He winked.

"You're such a jerk," she said, as she pushed him away and walked out the door.


	3. People Are People

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". There are some particulars mentioned in regards to the TVD Season 2 plot, up through the episode entitled "Katerina". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

_NOTE: In my original SPN story, Ruby went from bad to a good guy.  
_

_

* * *

_

"That's about it so far," Stefan said, leaning against a bookcase, his arms crossed over his chest. "Katherine's back and she got what she wanted...or so she says. I don't know if I can believe her. But, if what she said is true - and that is a very big if - then she's safely put away in the tomb, and out of danger if Klaus returns. Perhaps you all could be of some help; does Abby know much about her family, from that I mean she's a Lamia so she's descended from the Originals. Does she know anything about them?"

Dean shook his head. She didn't know much about her family, he admitted. Yes, she was Lamia. She'd mentioned the names Maya and mentioned Lilith as the first of Lamia-kind; there was no Klaus that had been brought up.

Stefan admitted that he didn't know much about Klaus either except that, as an Original, it was a pretty good chance that they were all royally screwed. Being her boyfriend and protector, Stef would not remark such things to Elena.

"She's taken all of these follies to heart and sincerely believes this is all her fault," Stefan explained. "What Katherine told her, about being the doppleganger and the sun and the moon curse-the sacrifice that her and her friends would have to make in order for it to be broken-she thinks by being born, this is all her doing. I can't let her go through that alone because it's not due to her existence in any way. I won't let her feel like that. So, we're going to fight and I'll die to protect her."

Dean and Sam nodded in agreement, it was at that moment that he saw Stefan as an ally. For a vampire, he was trustworthy.

"We'll help wherever we're needed," Sam said.

"Thank you. Honestly, it means a lot to have friends who are hunters. We already have one on our side who lives in town; Alaric Saltzman. We'll call him tomorrow and have a meeting," the vampire planned.

That was enough business talk for one evening. What Stefan revealed about what had happened and was currently going on in town was a lot to digest in one helping. There was still stuff Sam and Dean would have to figure out amongst themselves; priority one being where would Klaus make his move and what was Katherine's endgame?

He pushed his thoughts aside; they were for later when he and Sam could speak in private. There wasn't a chance in hell at the boarding house of having a discreet convo, with three snoopy vampires around.

"So, nice car," Dean moved the conversation in a non-spooky direction. "What is that a '67 Camaro you were drivin?"

"Yeah. I have to say, I don't see a lot of '67 Impalas on the road anymore either. You've kept her in good condition," Stefan complimented.

"Thanks, man. Well, if you would have seen her a few years ago after a car accident we had, you wouldn't have said that-"

"Dean fixed it back into shape," Sam chimed in, patting his brother's shoulder. "And he's being modest; he basically rebuilt her from the shell up. It was not just in an accident, but completely totaled by a semi-truck."

"Wow, you did an amazing job," Stefan said. "I actually have a '67 Impala in my garage as well-well I have a whole bunch of cars."

Dean's ears perked up at the mention of cars, as in multiple. And, from the looks of the house they were in, the vampire was loaded. Who knew what kind of vehicles were in the garage. He tried to keep cool and not overstep his bounds, anxiously awaiting an invite.

"You wanna check them out," Stefan asked.

"Yes. Yes I do," Dean smirked. "You comin' Sam?"

Sam declined, explaining that he was going to join Elena out in the living room instead.

"Suit yourself," Dean smiled.

Stefan lead the way out the back door and towards his supposedly massive collection of vintage and foreign cars.

* * *

Elena sat in front of the peaceful warm fire, resting on her hand, which was perched on the couch's arm rest.

"Mind if I sit down?"

She twisted in her seat to find Sam politely standing behind her.

"Of course. You don't have to ask," Elena smiled, scooting over on the couch to allow their guest to take a seat.

Sam awkwardly chuckled and instead took a seat over in one of the individual chairs. After just having met Elena, it probably seemed odd to sit on the couch with her. After all, they were newly formed allies but had yet to cement any real friendships. Right then, they just had a goal in common and that was enough.

He sat in the chair with an exhausted exhale, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. The taller brother clasped his hands together and looked around the room. He glanced over at Elena and offered her an awkward, clumsy grin before continuing his gazing around the room.

"Must be nice having your brother around; working together," Elena asked opening up conversation, smiling to ease the tension.

"Uh, yeah, it's-good."

"Good," she questioned. "The way you said it, doesn't _sound _good."

Sam chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his dark brown hair.

"No, I mean, it's good. We just - we haven't worked together in a while. He's been sort of retired," Sam revealed. "You see, after Abby and him had kids, they just decided to be very careful about their lives and what they did with them."

Elena shook her head with understanding. It made complete sense; their lives that were once theirs to do what they pleased were now what three little people depended on. They needed to get home safe for the sake of their children.

She didn't let it happen often, but there were some fleeting moment where she wondered about that part of life with Stefan. Being only seventeen, the actual thought regarding being a mother, was very far off. However there was always a lingering question: what if, in the future, she felt that _need_? What if, when she was in her twenties, thirties or forties; what if she wanted to have a child? There was no way she would leave Stefan and there was always a surrogate or adoption, but would that be fair to the child?

There were two opposing scenarios playing out in her head; one involving a happy child sitting with a beaming Stefan. The other was more grim and involved two parents grieving because of some strange circumstance they could have prevented.

She could never risk that; _never_.

That stone cold fact weighed on her conscience and was eating away at her dreams when Sam cleared his voice.

"So you and Stefan seem to be doing well," he asked, which she asked why he made that assumption in return. "I just know how crazy those kind of situations can be; you know vamps and humans. But , you guys seem happy - right?"

Elena smiled.

Yes, she was very happy with Stefan; over-the-moon happy in fact.

"I love him," she admitted with a beaming smile. She couldn't hold in her happiness.

"That's good," Sam nodded.

"What about you, Sam? Do you have someone at home," she inquired.

"Actually I do - but-"

"But?"

"This is going to sound absolutely awful...she's not 'the one,' ya know? My - my girlfriend when I was twenty was 'the one'."

"If you mind me asking...what happened to her?"

"She was killed."

"Oh," Elena sighed, feeling guilty for bringing up such a clearly sensitive topic. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Sam warmly smiled, "and please, don't feel weird for bringing that up at all. It was a long time ago. You know, it's not to say that my new girlfriend is _bad_; I mean Ruby's nice and all. It's just that - she isn't Jessica. She never will be Jess. There's just something about someone that's, unique and amazing, that when they burn out, they char a piece of you. You're _never_ the same when you meet them and you'll never be the same without them."

Elena scooted off the couch and put her hand on his knee.

"I understand completely."

"Aw, come on, Abby. I'm only _teasing_, but the bedroom is just down the hall and we did just fight," Damon's voice sounded from the landing over Elena's shoulder.

Feet stomped down the stairs at a fast pace.

"You are un-believable," Abby seethed, turning around to face her pursuer. "I didn't think that you could still possibly be this annoying after all this time, but here we are!"

"Sweetie, it's just so fun to crawl under your skin and _you_ make it so _easy_," he smiled, stroking her cheek. "So, bedroom?"

"Ugh!" The female vamp easily knocked his hand away.

Sam stood up from his seat and Abby moved to his side, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You okay," her brother-in-law asked her.

"Yeah, but I think we should go. Where's Dean?"

An engine roared in the distance.

"From the sounds of it, bonding with my sibling in gear-head brotherhood. Nerds," Damon chuckled. "Well, I'm off to the bar, but I'd be rude not to welcome you all to spend the night. We've got an extra bedroom that the Hardy Boys can share. Abby, you and me can bunk together."

"Never gonna happen, bucko," Abby smirked. "In your dreams."

He walked closer, a mischievous grin plastered across his cocky face.

"In my dreams Abby, I do more than just sleep next to you."

With that last remark, he blurred out the door. Abby let out an infuriated gasp.

"Why can't I just kill him? PLEASE explain that to me, Sam," Abby questioned. Sam just shrugged in reply.

Elena smiled at Abby, knowing full well the frustration Damon Salvatore could cause and what one would endure to work beside him. Damon always seemed to have an M.O. Sure he tortured everyone he could, but he spent most time tormenting those with his sarcasm when he cared about them. She knew this well, being the butt of most of his new jokes. Stefan got it the worst. Now, Abby?

"How do you know the boys," Elena finally inquired.

"Dude, those cars were just -_ awesome_."

"Thanks, Dean," Stefan's voice was heard in the far room.

Her heart smiled at _his _voice. Guess the boys were back from playing with their toys.

"But, honestly," Stefan continued, "your Impala is in much better shape than mine. If you're going to stick around for a while during this hunt, maybe you could work on it? I'd pay you."

Dean smiled, shaking his head yes and shrugging.

"Ah, sure. I own a garage back home so I can get parts. It's no problem," Dean smirked. He turned and looked to his brother and wife, and his eyes changed from excited to questioning; he was looking at Abby.

"You okay," he asked, moving towards her.

"Fine," she snapped before putting a hand to her head. "I'm sorry, Elena. Stefan."

"Don't be sorry. I apologize for my brother's attitude," Stefan said, knowing without having been there that Damon was the cause of her irritation. "You know, you guys are more than welcome to stay here during your time in Mystic Falls. There is plenty of room."

"Sure beats the old motel," Dean started before being elbowed in the side by Abby. "But, no thanks. We're good."

The group exchanged goodbyes and the three headed out the door.

Elena and Stefan returned to the couch, with Stefan sitting and Elena laying with her one head on the head rest, her feet propped on Stefan's lap.

"So," Elena started, "How do you and Abby know each other?"

Stefan smirked and laughed, asking her how long it's been bothering her. She admitted it was since they met up with them downtown.

"We met in 1911 in New York City," he paused, grinning at her. "It's a long story, when do you need to get home again?"

Was he stalling? She was not going to have any of that.

"A while, now start talking."


	4. That was Yesterday

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". There are some particulars mentioned in regards to the TVD Season 2 plot, up through the episode entitled "Katerina". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

_

* * *

_

"So, how do you know those two," Dean started on her as soon as they walked through the hotel door. She tossed her bag on the floor and plopped down on the edge of the squeaky, worn mattress.

"Well, in 1911, I got a case in New York City. I was secretly working jobs and my brother didn't have a clue that I was hunting. I was keeping it secret during that time - - at least I hope I was. Anyway, we were living in Massachusetts and he said it was time to move on, so, I took a chance and suggested New York. He surprisingly said okay. You have to understand, you knew my brother; he would have never just agreed with somewhere I wanted to go on a whim. Ever. However odd it was to have him so easily agree with me, we came to an accord regarding our new home in the city. It was the end of March in 1911 and the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire had just occurred. It was a garment factory that had gone up in flames. Almost 150 people died; most of them women."

"Was it suspicious enough to illicit a hunt," Sam asked.

At first, no, she admitted. There were many things wrong with the entire situation from the get go. Doors were locked that shouldn't have been, there was fabric every where making it a tinder box, doors opened towards the inside of rooms causing stampedes and no fire alarms were installed.

"It wasn't even something worth investigating...that is, until I heard the stories of people who survived that witnessed others jumping to their deaths from the eighth, ninth and tenth floors. Many claimed they saw a man in black coaching the women to jump, telling them things like it would be like falling into a pool of water. Of those who survived the fire without leaping, they claimed he was the devil and his eyes were black. So I thought-"

"Demon," the boys simultaneously guessed.

"Yep. That little tidbit got me thinking and I went to go take a look. We moved that week from Fall River, Massachusetts. I had been engrossed in the story of the Lizzie Borden murders since 1892. There were rumors of the house being haunted...but that's another story. James and I moved to New York City and we were outside the remnants of the factory, looking at the damage. I was scoping out the scene for clues; any odd symbols, sulfur - you know the drill. I was bending down to pick something up and as I stood, I hit the chin of someone above me. I swore and yelleed, thinking it was Jamie not paying attention, and it turned out to be Stefan. I immediately apologized for my language and the injury. With a chuckle, he claimed it wasn't a big deal, that he was only curious about what I had discovered on the ground."

Abby paused a moment and thought back to her vampire friend in 1911, with the same smile and warm eyes she had seen again that day in Mystic , but stylishly dressed for the times in a suit and hat.

He was so cute as he introduced himself, removing his hat for her.

"I'm sorry to have gotten so close," he apologized again.

"Oh, it was clearly my fault," Abby said, straightening out her feathered hat and long dress, "I should have watched as I was standing. I'm Abigail Stuart."

"Stefan. Stefan Salvatore," he boyishly grinned.

She smiled in return and, at that moment, they were instant friends.

"Do you mind if I escort you to where you were headed," he offered.

"_I'll_ escort her." Abby's brother suddenly appeared at her side. He was overprotective to say the least. Abby introduced her brother James to Stefan. Her stubborn brother was his typical self and yet Stefan seemed to have charmed him, at least for the moment. It had seemed that most formalities and gestures, morals and virtues that Jamie had held dear, which had dissipated with the turn of the twentieth century. Stefan seemed to have been raised well enough in his youth. They both could immediately tell he was a vampire that had been raised with mid-nineteenth century sensibilities.

They parted, Abby and her brother going one way, Stefan going the other. She twisted around, taking a curious peek back at Stefan over her brother's and her linked arms to find Stefan taking a glimpse back at her.

Stefan stopped when his eyes met hers and he turned around on his heel and headed towards their direction. Abby stopped, forcing her brother to halt and Stefan asked Abby if he could call on her. Well, he in all actuality asked James, but was looking at Abby for true consent.

That was just the beginning.

* * *

"So, you and Abby went out," Elena asked, finding out that Stefan had yet another ex-girlfriend, but not nearly as crazy. She doubted that was even possible.

"Yes," Stefan smiled. "Abby and I went out and dated for about sixth months."

"So, you guys were serious," she inquired, feeling a small twinge of jealousy. After all, Abby was absolutely gorgeous. The vampire had been blessed with dark, wavy hair with contrasting flawless porcelain skin and eyes the color of midnight; everything about her was intoxicating and flawless.

Right on cue, Stefan leaned over and kissed Elena's cheek.

"_I_ was serious," he admitted. "We had so much fun together. We'd go to the ice cream parlor, the movies, Coney Island; she was the first girl I rode with on a roller coaster. She was so free spirited, especially for that time period. I'll admit, I fell for her, but she - you know, I'm not sure how she felt about me."

Elena tilted her head, taking a minute to read his expression. Yep, he had loved her; she could see it in his eyes. It wasn't the same look he got whenever he reminisced about his time with Katherine. This wasn't a look of sorrow but one of mostly happiness. There were both sadness and a smile mixing in his eyes.

"Sixth months and all we did was have a good time. Then, Damon showed up. He'd been gone for years, hardly sent any letters; any word at all. Why he chose that time to show up, I'll never know. Guess it doesn't matter either way because he did. He showed up one day at my door, when Abby and I were in the parlor, deciding on what to do for the day. The door opened, which was odd and I sprang up to see who was barging into my house. It was Damon - with his bags. I asked what he was doing there and he said it would be there to torment me for a little while, that he owed me for being away for so long. My brother glanced over to the chaise to see Abby seated and when he looked at her, I know that there was going to be trouble."

Elena mentioned that trouble always followed Damon, so nothing had changed. Stefan laughed in agreement.

She asked, out of curiosity, what Abby felt about his brother at first.

"Same as now; couldn't stand him. She kept asking me to send him away and I explained that I couldn't put my brother out without some consequences. I filled her in on how he got turned and then she understood. The one thing she asked was that I never, ever leave her alone in a room with him. I respected her wishes and if I would have known what was going to transpire, I might have been more pushy about getting Damon out of New York."

* * *

"I hated him," Abby continued with her story, sitting on the bed while Dean and Sam sat on the other across from her. "He was just - ugh. He got under skin like no other."

"So, why did you and Stefan break up," Sam asked.

It had been an odd turn of events. She had _liked_ Stefan, a lot in fact. Abby truly adored him so much that she would have married him if he had asked. However, there was always something missing. Sure, they had had fun together...but that was where it ended. They cared for one another, had a good time, but Abby didn't feel any real _passion_ from him directed to her.

He was very by-the-book; polite and kind.

She was secretly hunting supernatural creatures by night and disobeying her only remaining kin. Yeah, she wasn't sure how long their relationship would last if he ever found out what she really was; a hunter.

"I got a case on Staten Island about a suspicious fire at the Kreischer Mansion. Someone said they came across someone who said the house burnt down and a man with Yellow Eyes was present. Sounded like a demon to me, so I left to investigate the area and surrounding Crossroads. Well - Damon must have followed me that night, and obviously, figured out what I did with my spare time."

"So," Damon had smirked that night in 1911, continuing to follow her even though she had told him to leave her be, "You're a hunter. How - _odd_."

"Why not," she had said, dragging her skirt on the ground. "It's the best cover to be around humans. How can you be one of the bad guys if you hunt them?"

Damon had laughed and agreed that it was clever, and he'd have to use that someday. He also inquired if Stefan knew about her hunting gig.

"No, he doesn't know. My brother neither. I come out here alone and get the job done."

"You have a lot of tenacity to come out here all by yourself and face such evil," he had said with sincerity. "I respect that."

"It's my job," she had sheepishly admitted. "And, what of you - what is your job, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Please," he stopped, taking her hand in his. "Call me Damon. And, for now on, _my_ job will be to make sure you don't kill yourself while you do yours."

The lead in Staten Island came up cold, and the pair made it back to their respective brownstones in New York. Abby admitted to Dean and Sam that after that initial arrangement, Damon accompanied her on a few hunts.

"He was helpful and did save my ass on more than one occasion. He was a skilled and fierce fighter. Damon had been trained well during the War Between the States. On the way to and from these adventures, we swapped stories; I told him about my abusive ex William and told me stories of Katherine Pierce. I guess it was a matter of venting and getting those things off our chests. Of course, my ex was long dead. He, on the other hand, felt that she was still very much alive, but locked away; just out of reach."

It had touched Abby to see such a tender side of Damon. He hid it behind sarcasm and mischief, but underneath his jarring persona was a boy who had lost the love of his life. He had stolen from him the only thing that, during a tumultuous time of war, got him through and made him better.

Damon and Abby never gave away too much of their story, neither revealing their hometowns; only names, dates and regions. Even if a vampire was trustworthy, too much information divulged could lead to dangerous consequences in the end.

One night, while they were traveling from New York to just out side of Elizabeth, New Jersey, Damon admitted that Katherine was everything he was; everything good that remained of him.

"She's locked away and I'm going to get her out someday if I keep my end of the bargain and keep that miserable witch's descendants safe," he muttered in the carriage next to her.

"What if Katherine has changed her mind about you," Abby had inquired.

He turned to her with a puzzled expression.

"I mean to say - that many years is a lot of time to be locked up in a tomb. That is enough time to think, and if she were in love with both and Stefan-"

"She loved _me_," he spoke defiantly. "She didn't love _him_."

Abby had stopped speaking at his harsh tone.

"You and Stefan seem happy," Damon commented, changing the focus from him to herself.

"Yes. We are - we care a lot about each other," she admitted, finding it easier to open up to Damon since she had weeks to get to know him.

"Then why don't you tell him what you do for a living," he asked outright.

"Because - because I don't think he'd want that kind of girl. He seems rather-"

"Old fashioned," Damon smirked.

Abby nodded, admitting that she was tired of men trying to run her life. First it was her brother guiding her to a direction and then there was Stefan, who she felt was just going to place her into a role as a wife. She wasn't going to have it anymore.

"You have too much spunk for my dear brother to handle," he chuckled.

"Oh really, and who might have enough to 'handle me,'" she joked.

The carriage had suddenly come to a halt, the screams of the driver focusing them on what was transpiring.

* * *

"I don't know what happened on that trip," Stefan admitted. "All I know, is that, when they came back days later, she was distant. A few days afterward, she dropped the bomb."

"It's not that I don't love you," she said. Then she apologized because she wasn't being a good friend and, after the whole Katherine incident, in no way want to recreate it. Then she admitted that she and Damon had gotten close. She kept her distance from the house, but she and Damon started having a relationship. I warned her though...but she didn't listen," Stefan sighed.

"Wait," Elena paused, taking in the recent discovery. "Damon had a relationship after Katherine?"

"Yep. Abigail and Damon lasted about five months. It wasn't a secret to me, but they kept it from her brother. He would have been none too pleased to know that she was going out with Damon. He did not like him to say the least," Stefan laughed. "They broke up end of March 1912...or was it April? I'm not sure of the circumstances. One day, Damon came home early in the morning, packed his stuff and took a train west. He didn't give a reason; he was just gone. Later that morning, Abby showed up at my door looking for him and I had to break her heart and say that he left without an address."

"How...how could he just take off like that and not mention anything to anyone? How could he not tell her if he loved her," Elena angrily lamented.

Stefan admitted that he still had no clue, but that was typical Damon. Whatever relationship Damon and Abby had was very secretive; nothing was fully disclosed even up to that point.

"Abby stuck around for a while. She'd visit me and we'd go out to the park for strolls but were never romantically linked again. It turned into more of the friendship I had with Lexi. She remained in New York for a while; what she was up to I didn't know. I always thought that perhaps she waiting to see if I received word from Damon, which I never did. That was par for the course for him. He'd split and I'd get no word, and then years later he'd just show up at my door."

He continued, explaining that she left without a goodbye a few days after the sinking of the Titanic. Abby & her brother just took off mysteriously.

Elena tried to imagine how Abby must have felt then, finding a connection with Damon only to have him just cut it completely. The vampire woman must have known that Damon was a hard person to be with, that he was difficult to keep; a player in his time.

Stefan went on to say, after she left, he'd get letters from her every so often. He'd also get news from Damon and his brother was none too happy. If Damon's intent was to make Stefan's life miserable for all eternity, Abby was doing the same to Damon.

Stefan stood up and blurred upstairs to return with a handful of bundled letters. They were all addressed to him and Elena recognized Damon's handwriting.

She took them from his hand, carefully opening up the yellowed pages. They were very short letters and telegraphs from Damon throughout the years.

_August 1912_

_Ran into Abby in Portland. Apparently, my taking off didn't sit too well. She's a fighter, that one. We left the bar money for the repairs that'll need to be done to get it back to working order. _

_January 1922_

_Met Abby at a bar in Chicago. She was working at a speakeasy. We left money for repairs at the bar and hotel. She broke my nose and wrist._

_January 1935_

_You'll never guess who I spent time with New Year's Eve._

"Why does he mention leaving money for damages," she questioned.

"Well, seemed that it became a game over the years; he and Abby would unexpectedly cross paths, piss each other off and fight; and I mean physically fight. I swear, I never understood those two at all. Whenever either one of them asked about the other, I just put my hands up and stay out of it," Stefan smirked.

Elena laughed and personally determined that had indeed been a smart move on his part.

Stefan smiled, picked her up and sat her on his lap, playfully kissing her cheek.

Elena giggled and threw her arms around his strong shoulders.

"I wouldn't have pegged her with such an aggressive personality. She seems nice; they all do," Elena expressed, also mentioning that it would be great to have outside help without having to tell people what the hell was really going on. It was wise to have a fresh perspective on the problems.

Stefan agreed, admitting that although he wasn't sure about Dean and Sam at first, they were at least somewhat trustworthy if Abby believed in them.

"It takes a lot for her to trust anyone. I'm guessing that's even more so now that her brother is dead."

Elena rested her head on Stefan's shoulder, thinking about how her life would have been destroyed if she lost Jeremy. She couldn't imagine what Abby went through, especially after having her brother as a companion for such a long time.

It had to be a good thing that they came into town. Stefan mentioned he had indeed heard of the Winchesters before; their reputation preceded them. They were tough but great hunters; any vampire that has crossed their paths and hadn't deserved to die lived to tell about it. Same couldn't be said for those who had previously ran into John Winchester; the boys' father. He was definitely more old-school in his thinking of the species.

She nodded and leaned into him, finding herself getting too cozy.

"You can stay here tonight," he offered, brushing her hair off of her face.

"Do you really want to piss Jenna off," she smirked.

Stefan laughed, something that had become musical to her ears, and admitted that was one more problem he didn't want to undertake.

He blurred off the couch, taking her with him, and lead her out to the car to take her home.

* * *

"You sure you want another one?"

He slammed the money on the bar.

"You sure you like your job here," he seethed, taking the bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and taking a glass. He put a wad of cash on top of the bar. "That should cover this." He waived the bottle in front of bartender and walked towards and empty table.

Besides the music, it was quiet in the Mystic Grill. It was late enough on a school night that the teens had all but cleared out, leaving only a few loaners and some shitty music playing over the speakers.

He took his lapis ring off his finger and spun it on the wooden table, watching it shimmer under the dim lighting.

He thought about the three problems that had very recently walked into his life; they went by the names Katherine, Elena and Abigail. They were his three fates.

With Katherine, there was the whole situation concerning to his pining for her over a hundred years, only to be rebuffed in the end. How in the blue hell had he let himself get so whipped by the pretty little vampire? He may have been a master manipulator in his own right but he had obviously been schooled by the very best. Well, schooled and burned. She made it clear; she loved Stefan. That was all he needed to hear. At that point, in that instant, he was done devoting any part of himself to her. The only thing regarding her he was now devoted to was her demise.

And, he was still was going to kill her, but he couldn't if Elena was in danger.

Like it or not, the bitch had valuable information and was forcing threats upon Elena.

Elena. Elena was another problem that was beyond his scope. He loved her. What he felt for her was of the same intensity of Katherine but was completely different. She was above him. He was completely devoted to her. What that currently meant was to keep her safe and to make sure she didn't know it.

He took another swig straight from the bottle.

That part was killing him completely, but it was what she deserved. She was right with Stefan and his brother was right with her. Damon was not good enough for Elena...and he never would be.

Add to that potent mix, the one and only Abigail Stuart.

His lips curved into a crooked smile before he took another drink. He would need plenty of those if she showed up. No doubt, she'd be ready to go for another round. He wasn't quite drunk enough yet.

"Abby, Abby, Abby," he chuckled. "What the hell am I ever going to do with you?"

"I don't know," she said, straddling the chair on the other side of the table. "What are you going to do with me?"


	5. Have A Drink On Me

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". There are some particulars mentioned in regards to the TVD Season 2 plot, up through the episode entitled "Katerina". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

* * *

It had already been a hell of a long evening, and Dean's patience was stretched as far as it could for one night. In true Abigail fashion, after an already stressful day, she had to go and push it.

Right as she ended of her 'how I met Damon Salvatore' spiel, she suggested she should go back out and do some investigating. The brothers did not see eye-to-eye with the overly enthusiastic vampire. Sammy thought it was best to stay in and do research; get a better idea of what they were up against in Mystic Falls. Dean, for once, agreed with his brother. To be completely honest, he just didn't want her going anywhere alone; he thought it best they wait 'til morning. Maybe she was right and perhaps he was being absurdly cautious but what did she expect on their first time back on a hunting trip together in _years_?

"Don't you think it would be wise to get them before they strike again," Abby argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "Am I right, Sam?"

"Oh, no, no, no; I am staying out of this," his younger brother yielded, putting more attention on his online research.

"Dean -"

"No freakin' way," he snapped back, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just drop it, okay? Look, it's really late, the vamps aren't going to be out in a little while with the sun coming u p-"

"Hun, it's just after midnight. I think the sun isn't going to be for a while," she cut Dean off, "besides that whole 'morning' thing is a good theory unless what we are up against are like Damon, Stefan and Katherine...and me...and have these." She held up her wrist, the silver and lapis lazuli bracelet circlet secured around her wrist; once with a removable clasp, but now one solid piece.

To him, the magically-enchanted-sun-protecting-jewelry wasn't a reminder of the fact that other vamps were able to walk in the sunlight; to Dean, it was more of a reminder of their limitations. From what he had gathered, made vampires had the restriction of being night walkers and Lamia, vampires who were born that way, were able to day walk. That was the same for Abby until a freak accident almost killed her as a little kid. She was attacked and poisoned by a toxin that left an undeniable mark on her; it made her allergic to sunlight. Her vampire apothecary, or whatever you called it, knew someone who forged specialized bewitched, lapis pieces for made vamps. So, with the help of the bling, Abby once again had her life back - but if she ever happened to be out in daylight and that got cut off -

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

For the supposedly immortal and undead, they sure could die pretty damn easily. And, for that reason, there was no way in hell she was going out that evening.

"_No_."

Abby huffed, clearly pissed off, and blurred off to the bathroom with her overnight bag. She reappeared in her pajamas a few seconds later. Tossing her bag back into the corner, leaving a dent in the wall, she jumped onto the bed and went under the covers.

"Come on. What are you doin," Dean asked, sitting on the bed beside her.

"Do-ing what you requested; I'm doing nothing," she said, turning in the bed to face away.

"Really, Ab? You _can_ do something. You can help us research. Ab? Are we gonna play games here? What are you nine," he huffed. She remained silent. "I swear sometimes it's easier handling the kids."

Dean stormed away from her, allowing her to sleep it off. Maybe that was just what the doctor ordered. If he just left her alone for a little while, gave her a little space, she'd be as right as rain.

He picked up their dad's journal and joined Sam with the investigation at the table.

His eyes would occasionally glance up from his paperwork to his wife asleep in the bed across the room. It wasn't like her to just give in like that. At some point, he figured she was going to say 'screw you all,' and walk out of the room. It was only a matter of time.

He waited two hours and, to his general surprise, she hadn't budged. Dean rose up out of the creaky kitchen chair and craned his neck over the bed. She appeared to be in deep sleep. Now, if she was really asleep was the million dollar question.

A yawn caught him by surprise. Was he that tired?

He looked back down at his research, his eyes blurry from exhaustion. Guess that drive took more out of him than he previously thought.

Even though it wasn't necessarily the best move, he and Sam decided to call it a night.

Dean said his goodnight to his brother and took his place beside Abby in the bed. She was still facing the wall, a sign that despite sleep, she was still upset.

He tried to roll her over. Dean didn't want to wake her up, but if there was one thing he hated, it was going to bed angry. She refused to move an inch.

Fine. Whatever. He flipped around to face the other bed, turning his back to her.

He stared at the clock for a minute or two until he drifted off.

After about a short half hour of snoozing, he rolled over and awoke to an empty bed. Abby was gone. Super.

"Sam," he croaked, his voice rough with sleep. "Sammy."

No answer.

He struggled in the dark, finding his cell phone on the night stand. He chucked it across the side of the room towards the bed parallel to his own. There was a thud and a groan.

"What do you want," Sam muffled into his pillow.

"Guess where Abby is," Dean muttered as he searched the darkness for his jeans.

"Probably not here. My question is, you're surprised why," Sam chuckled, making a sound as he stretched in the other bed, the coils in the old mattress squeaking. Why was he laughin'? Dean didn't very funny. "Come on, Dean. You _knew_ she'd try this. Maybe it's not a bad thing. If she did run into any vamps, she can take care of herself. You know that."

"Look, I respect her as a hunter. Believe me, I know that she's been doin' this a lot longer than we have - but I still gotta make sure she's okay, man," he admitted.

Sam understood and commiserated.

"I'll make a pot of coffee and I'll stay awake until you come back - unless you want me to come with?"

"Nah, it's okay. I won't be out long. I'm just going to grab her and take her back here. This crazy chick making me get up at the ass crack of dawn...," Dean continued to mutter as he left the motel room.

After he set off, Dean drove around the town, searching for any sign and thinking of where in the blue hell she could be. Then again, maybe she just went out to 'dinner;' if that were the case and she went out hunting, he'd never track her down. He was not, he repeated, _not_ going to run around in the woods after midnight to find her ass.

Everything in town was closed, which was not surprising for being that late. The only thing left open was the Mystic Grill. It was worth a shot.

He parked the Impala across the street in an alley and headed towards the bar...until he spotted a mysterious figure zoom past him at superhuman speed.

'_Damn it.'_

Reluctantly, he took a look back at the tavern before he immediately changed his plans and went after the mysterious figure alone.

* * *

Abby stared at him with interest. He was doing the same, taking her in with his sportive blue eyes.

"Drink," he offered with a smile, handing her the opened bottle.

She took it from him and placed it down on the table with a thud.

"What," Damon sighed. "All these years and you've lost your charming sense of humor now? Is it from the hubby? Problems at home?"

Always with the games. She wasn't there to play; she was there to get answers.

"Why is really Katherine here," she rushed out cutting to the chase.

"All work and no play makes Damon a dull boy," he crookedly smiled. "Come on, have a drink for old time's sake."

He reached across the table and lifted the bottle with one hand while she tried to set it down with the other. The friction and force of the weight shattered the bottle in their hands.

"Great. Nice going, Abigail Stuart! You broke a bottle all over the floor! If someone stepped on glass they could sue this fine establishment," Damon yelled, making sure to get the bartender's attention. He was purposely trying to cause a scene.

Abby grabbed onto him and gave him a look to stop.

"Don't worry," he assured with a wink.

The owner rushed over and asked what the hell was going on, to which Damon said there was no problem.

"Sorry, she's a little clumsy. You'll just clean this up and bring us another complimentary bottle...two straws," Damon smirked as he compelled the bartender to forget the mess and do his bidding.

"I'm not here to drink," Abby said between her gritted teeth. "I _know_ you know more about what Katherine is doing here and what she is up to. We got the scoop from Stefan but I want to hear it from you. Why is she back?"

"She's a crazy bitch who likes to torture people, how should I know?"

The bartender came back to the table with a freshly uncorked bottle of wine, leaving it on the edge of the table nearest to Damon.

"Because you also happen to be a crazy bitch who likes to torture people," she continued to pressure. "So, please understand that I believe you have more of an insight into her madness than I do. Now, why is she here?"

"Not for me, so I don't give a damn," he said, raising the bottle and toasting to her, taking a swig.

Abby put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. He was just so infuriating. Nothing about that had changed in all the years she had known him.

"Look, I came out here tonight with the hope that you would be willing to help. I - I just want to get this case fucking over with so I can go home to my kids. Apparently, I'm just wasting my time," she said, standing up out of her chair, turning to leave.

She made it about two feet before she heard a heavy sigh from behind.

"Wait."

Abby pivoted to face the other way, finding Damon suddenly looking very un-Damon like. He appeared tired, suddenly and completely drained of his usual sarcastic energy. He managed a weary smile, he was motioning for her to retake her seat.

"One drink," he said, holding up his index finger. "Just share one glass with me and I'll tell you what I know."

She scrutinized him, remaining where she had stopped. From his eyes, she could tell he was not being deceptive.

Abby walked back to her seat as Damon ordered the bartender to bring them two wine glasses.

* * *

Dean placed himself up against a tree and out of sight. His chase had brought him to the edge of town, near the beginnings of a forest. He had his gun cocked and at the ready.

Whatever he was trailing was fast and discreet. He had a hard time keeping its trail. Maybe he had lost it again?

There was another rustling coming from close by.

Perhaps he hadn't completely off track after all. Good to know his skills weren't too rusty.

He thought about the amount of supernatural creatures Stefan had mentioned were in town. Dean took an inventory of his current weaponry.

All he had on him was his gun, although he did have some silver bullets in his pocket, and his knife. Goddamn it, he forgot his machete. The one good vampire hunting tool was locked in the trunk of the Impala. Beautiful.

Dean visually scanned the perimeter around him, finding a good amount of dead branches that had fallen from the trees. A makeshift stake wouldn't kill 'em but it might slow them down.

Another crack nearby drew his attention.

He readied himself and spun around the trunk, facing the direction of the sound.

Nothing.

He approached the exact area in which he assumed rustling had originated. There he found a large group of overgrown bushes. Upon closer inspection, there was something on the leaves, glistening under the moonlight.

Dean squatted down, putting his finger on the foliage. It was sticky and mildly warm.

Blood.

He reluctantly pulled back the leaves with his hands, pointing his gun down towards the ground.

Under the massive amount of shaded, dark green, he found more than just roots and decaying leaves. There, below the branches, was the body of a young woman. The blood still oozed from the wounds in her neck. It was a fresh kill.

Before he had a chance to inspect the body any further, he was struck from behind.

Dean grunted from the impact and wrestled with his assailant before being pinned to the ground.

The dude holding him down was much stronger than himself.

Above him, the pasty male smiled at him before snarling and extending his fangs.

* * *

"She told Stefan she wants to stay in the tomb because she's 'safe' from Klaus. Now, I've never met an Original myself, but I know that if Katherine is scared of them, there is a reason to be nervous," Damon admitted, holding the door open for Abby as they exited the Mystic Grill.

He smirked at her as she thanked him, brushing past him through the opened doorway.

"So this Klaus is an Original," Abby muttered to herself, crossing her arms across her chest, walking aimlessly on the sidewalk. Damon kept pace beside her. "Perhaps I can look into my family's past for some answers."

Damon tilted his head and looked at her, perplexed at how her own personal history could possibly have any bearings with Klaus.

Abby paused and explained to a bemused Damon why it could make sense; she was told that she was a direct descendant of the Originals. All Lamia technically were; however, from what little she dug up regarding her classified familial lineage over the years, her kin had some special bond with them.

"Look, I work at an organized nest in Chicago. We have connections and I'm sure I can get an associate at the complex to do some research. I'll do whatever I can to help. It'll be beneficial to all of us."

He nodded at her eagerness to lend a hand. The Abby that was currently walking beside him in 2010 was far different from the girl he had first conquered around a hundred years before. Sure, she had moxie back in the day, but the current version of Abigail was more confident and pulled together. Perhaps it was because she didn't have to hide her occupation anymore; that immeasurable stress of keeping it a secret from her over-protective brother was gone. Damon got the sense that Dean not only didn't care about her job, but accepted it.

Speaking of her brother...

"I was sorry to hear about James' passing," Damon lied.

"Thank you, Damon," she said, her voice thick with sadness. "It's been difficult, but I got through it. Believe me, it wasn't easy, but having Dean and Sam there was truly helpful."

Call him heartless, many had before, but he couldn't truly understand why it was so difficult. If only James would have been dead back in the early 1900s. Hell, Damon may have thought about doing it himself a few times. It was true, he had thought about it, and almost acted upon those musings but, then he'd just have to take one look at Abby when the siblings were around one another. Damn it, he couldn't do that to her; he couldn't take that away from her. Asshole or not, James was still her family. Abby always said that family was forever, right?

Not so. Damon firmly believed family was not a bond that was written in blood. The notion of 'family' didn't exist; anybody could shoot the other in the back. In his case, it had been his own brother and then his father - who quite literally shot him in the back.

The sad truth that no one wanted to face; the only person you could rely on in life was yourself.

Then again, in his own case, hadn't he fucked that up time and time again? Whether he liked it or not, his brother Stefan had repeatedly, all be it out of self-condemnation, helped him out of many jams.

Despite his best effort to not give a rat's ass about his annoying little brother, he still felt the tiniest need to make sure Stef was safe. It was his job as the eldest son, one that his father had bestowed upon him at a very young age; much too young to take on that level of responsibility. That may have been the one thing that he and Abby's older brother James had in common. Other than that, the two vampires had been like oil and water. Truly, that wasn't harsh enough; maybe more like vampires and vervain. The two didn't mix and when they did, someone got hurt.

"I hope we get this case dealt with soon," she whispered.

"Aww, but you _just_ got here. What, you're not enjoying your time in Mystic Falls," he prodded with a mischievous smirk. He loved giving her shit. She rolled her obsidian eyes.

"I miss my home, Damon," she admitted with a timbre of annoyance. "My house, my kids. And here I thought that I missed this whole hunting thing. Guess the answer is I didn't miss it as much as I thought."

"Home sounds boring. What happened to the girl that used to lie, steal, travel around stalking me only to kick my ass for pure enjoyment," he chuckled as he recalled their history.

She laughed at that, admitting that she may have indeed gone through a psycho ex-girlfriend phase.

"I've got to tell you - I don't regret what I did to you at all; you deserved every bit of pain and suffering that you endured by my hand," Abby admitted, not one hint of guilt in her voice. He asked her give him a break. "I'm not going to slash open old wounds, Damon. I'm over it."

"Is that why you slapped me," he paused to count on his fingers, "are we up to three times now?"

"I lost count," she joked, "And, look, we made it almost a whole half hour without fighting!"

"That there is a new record. Bravo."

Despite her best effort, she smiled at him. It wasn't a fake, strained one as he had seen most of the day. This time, her lips were curved up by actual amusement. How many years had it been since he had seen something so genuine from her?

Without warning, Abby interrupted her pace, putting her hand on Damon's chest.

Why in the hell did she-

He heard an odd sound coming from the west of town. Was it _footsteps_...running? Crunching leaves?

"Is there a wooded area nearby," she inquired, pointing westerly.

"Yeah. We're close to the edge of the downtown area -"

"Stay here," she ordered him.

Abby started off towards where the sound emitted.

"You're _not_ going there alone," he dictated.

Before he could think about what he was doing, Damon had rushed to Abby, grabbing her by the forearm, stopping her dead in her tracks.

She growled from deep within her chest. He had to admit, after all those years, she could still catch him off-guard.

"_Fine_," she reluctantly conceded, "but _you'll_ have to keep up."

She blurred off to the West and was out of view in seconds.

Abby was always faster than Damon and she _knew_ that. Bitch.

With a sigh, he darted off after her.


	6. No Suprises

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". There are some particulars mentioned in regards to the TVD Season 2 plot, up through the episode entitled "Katerina". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

_

* * *

_

Dean smirked at his attacker, who was desperately trying to reach his neck, the vamp's teeth precariously snapping only centimeters away from flesh.

"Not this time, Twilight," Dean groaned as he maneuvered himself under the weight of the snarling creature.

With some effort, Dean managed to free his right arm and elbowed the vampire hard in the face. His opponent barred its sharp canines at him, who repaid the display with a swift kick to the face, sending the dude flying backwards.

As the dazed vampire traveled through the air, a shapeless blur appeared from the left. It rammed into the assailant with a sickening thud of flesh-to-flesh, sending the vamp wheeling into a large tree to the far right. The massive oak groaned and creaked, some of the bark wrapped around the trunk cracking under the weight of the strike.

The formless figure instantly reappeared in front of him, finally resembling more than just an obscure form.

Abby.

She crouched down between himself and his vampire attacker, buffering in case of more assaults as Dean readied himself on the ground. Abby was poised for an attack, whether it would come from the male or her first was the million-dollar question.

She snarled at the male being, barring her fierce canines.

Dean could barely make out the new shade of her pupils, the dark veins around her eyes a deep purple and red. He cringed. No matter how many times he'd seen her like that, for what she really was, deep down it cut him. Perhaps it was from all the years of getting rid of 'bad guys,' or perhaps it was a prejudice that had been passed down from his dad. No matter how hard he had tried, it wasn't one he was willing to give up completely. However, she was one of the cases where he chose to let it slide...that was, until moments where she completely vamped out. For those short instances afterwards, when her eyes were glazed over with animalistic thirst, there was a minuscule, inner part that didn't recognize her at all. That truly scared the living shit out of him.

Approaching footfalls pulled Dean from his mangled thoughts. Without warning, the male vampire against the tree growled and charged towards Abby.

She readied herself to defend and protect Dean, but it apparently wasn't needed.

Another blur appeared from the left, knocking the assailant into the broad oak with a stronger impact than before. The trunk snapped down the middle.

Damon.

Damon snarled at the vampire who he held up against the tree by the throat. The enemy screamed as Damon's hand squeezed around his pale, white neck.

With the bad vamp under Salvatore's control, Dean brought his attention back to his wife. Her shoulders were still heaving from the attack. She shut her eyes tight, trying to control her breathing and get through her intense supernatural urges. The grotesque veins that had appeared around her eyes faded away as she regained some semblance of control.

"You okay," she asked Dean, offering him a hand to help him off the ground.

"Fine. I'm not bit," he grunted as he was helped to stand upright.

The vampire against the tree gnashed its teeth. With a roll of his eyes, Damon punched him in the stomach.

"Oh, be _nice_," Damon smirked. "What a dick."

Abby growled and zoomed over to the tree. Dean followed.

She looked the vampire up and down and tisked.

"What should we do with it," Damon asked her as she surveyed the creature, a satisfied smile plastered across his face.

"Who is he," she asked her vampire ally. Damon claimed to have not seen him around and was one hundred percent positive that he was definitely not one of the infamous tomb vamps. No, this vampire was a new citizen of Mystic Falls for sure.

"Do you know Katherine," Damon asked him. The vampire remained silent. With an exasperated sigh, he slammed his captive's head against the tree. "_Answer_ me."

The vampire spat blood in Damon's face.

Damon smiled and wiped the blood away with his free palm. With his other hand, he squeezed harder. Abby intervened, whispering in Damon's ear something that Dean couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, Salvatore loosened his grip a tad.

"I could take your head off with my bare hands, idiot," Damon smugly announced. "I'll ask you once more nicely before I get mean; Do. You. Know. Katherine?"

The vampire suddenly laughed.

"Who _doesn't_ know Katerina," he chuckled with a Russian accent. "Who hasn't she pissed off or screwed over in all her centuries?"

"He's got a point there," Damon murmured. "So, why then are your here exactly?"

Abby interjected, obviously getting a different sense from the injured vamp's loyalty.

"Do you know Klaus," she asked, her voice steady.

The mention of the name caused the vampire to stop cease laughter. He swiftly turn his head towards Abby.

"Smart girl. Smart girl," the Russian vampire looked her up and down, making Dean feel a little uneasy at the intensity of his gaze. "My little girl, _mala tempora currunt_."

"Latin? Who speaks Latin anymore," Damon asked, turning his head towards Abby and Dean. "Either of you two know what the hell he just said?"

Dean thought a moment, going through the Latin words his father had made him memorize as a child. Okay, mala meant bad, but what about the other two words...

"It means...bad times are upon us," Dean translated for Damon.

The Russian vampire smirked.

"_Da_. So the pathetic _human_ understands Latin, I'm impressed," he stated, staring at Dean with his ice blue eyes, somewhat eclipsed by his dark blonde strands of hair.

"So what about this Klaus bozo; what business are you doing for him here," Dean asked.

The vampire snorted at him, declaring Dean a stupid-fucking-human.

"Show some respect, you pitiful _boy_," the vampire spat, starting to fight from Damon's grasp.

"Where's Klaus," Damon repeated Dean's question.

The vampire just laughed, clearly not going to say anything incriminating.

"Fine, then you're useless," Damon said, revealing a stake clutched in his free hand.

He raised it high above the struggling, trapped vampire, about to drive it straight into it's dead heart.

Dean knew he had to intervene. After all, the vampire wasn't talking at that particular time, but after not eating for a few days, he just might.

Before Damon could stake him, Dean dove forward, inserting a syringe of dead man's blood into the vampire's neck.

The dark haired vampire stopped the stake just above the blonde vampire's chest, swearing to himself as the man in his grasp became weaker and weaker.

As he passed out, he whispered something else in Latin in regards to Klaus.

"What did he say," Abby asked.

"Klaus will come like manus celer Dei - the swift hand of God," Dean translated.

That couldn't be good.

* * *

Damon and Dean carried the unconscious from the Impala into the Salvatore boarding house. It wasn't _his_ idea to keep that idiot vampire alive. If he had it his way, he'd be a pile of dust with a stake sticking out of the remnants.

Why couldn't he just say no?

"We may need him later," Dean had suggested, Abby agreeing with his opinion.

"But, where do we stash him," she asked.

There was only one place Damon knew where they could easily access the captive in the future as well as keep him under control: the vervain-filled cellar room where once Stefan and himself had been kept to regain their senses. Not that Damon needed it; _he_ was fine.

Abby kept a lookout as the vampire and hunter maneuvered the limp weight through the hallways and down the cellar steps. They had almost made it free and clear -

"Get going," Abby had whispered. "Hurry up!"

"Abby? What are you doing here?"

_Stefan. Perfect._

"HEY, Stef! Nothin' much just - _shit_," she muttered as he already was stomping down the cellar stairs.

Fuck. Ab was never really good at lying to either of them. Vampire or not, both of the Salvatore brothers could see right through her antics.

Stefan appeared at the door to the room where Dean and Damon were placing the vampire. His younger brother put his right thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.

"Who's that," he asked matter-of-factly.

"One of Klaus' men," Dean answered first.

"We're keeping him here under lock-and-key until he tells us what we want to know," Damon said.

Dean suggested all vamps get out of the area before he poured vervain all over the floor of the room. All three moved back farther into the depths of the hallway. The vagrant smell of the vervain and dead man's blood was burning their throats. Abby had an exceptionally hard time, gasping. Stefan offered his arm as support and the three made it back to the grand living room.

As Stefan sat down with Abby, Damon caught his brother up to speed on the evening, leaving out the part that most of his own blood was probably alcohol from his evening of drinking.

"He stupidly attacked Dean who was out there for god knows what -"

"For me. He was looking for me," Abby admitted, looking down at her hands. "I lied to him. I snuck out."

Damon smirked. Apparently the old Abigail he once knew was still there after all.

Footsteps sounded up the narrow passageway from the basement before Dean approached the living room.

He still reeked of vervain.

"Sorry guys, I wouldn't go down there for a while. He's tied up in soaked vervain ropes, the inside of the door is coated in DMB and he's still out. I think he's good for now. We can decide how we're going to deal with him later," he looked stoically towards Abby. "It's late, let's go."

Damon made the sound of a whip cracking.

Abby gave him a dirty look and rose from her seat, walking towards Dean.

The couple headed out of the house, saying they'd be in touch.

When the door closed, Damon waited for the inevitable scolding from his brother.

He rose from his seat, facing his younger brother, forever a little taller than himself.

"You've had your fun, Damon," Stefan said.

"Oh Stefan, I'm only playing, she knows that - "

"HE doesn't and he's a hunter."

"Calm down, brother. She's clearly got him under control and he's not going to hurt us if she stands in the way," he stated.

"Let's not have it come down to that. Leave them alone," Stefan said, giving Damon a deadly stare. "Stay out of trouble tonight."

Damon saluted him before giving him the middle finger behind his back.

He plopped himself on the couch before the roaring fire. Oh how he wished he could feel more of the warmth. It was something from his human years he longed for...among other things.

Damon pushed the thoughts down, deep down where they were usually stored. He couldn't let them up to the surface. The mere touch of the tendrils of thought burned what was left of his soul - that is if he even had one left.

He closed his eyes, thinking of how Abby's ride home would be with Dean: would it be filled with silent tension or loud argumentation?

Maybe, as his brother suggested, he should leave them alone. He _should_ - but it didn't mean he was going to.

With a crooked smile, he pulled Abby's cellphone out of his pocket. He had swiped it out of her pocket during the scuffle in the forest glen.

Damon opened it up, searching through her numbers and her contacts, smiling at the random text messages. He couldn't wait till she realized it was missing and it wouldn't take her long to realize where it was located.

Oh he'd leave her alone...when he was done with her.

* * *

"I can't find it," she said, searching through her purse for the tenth time that morning.

"Did you have it on your during the fight last night," Sam asked.

Dean didn't utter a word to her; he murmured something to his brother about heading to the hotel continental breakfast alone. He was still angry.

Abby returned her attention to the futile search for her cellphone. She had no idea where it could have gone. Sam was right there might have been a chance that she left it at the park, but she hadn't felt it fall out of her jeans pocket nor did she hear it touch the ground.

There may have been another option - and she hoped with all of her being that it wasn't true. Every part of her hoped that her phone was lying in the grass at the park.

"You know, you may be right, Sam. I'm going to check out the areas from last night," she said, walking backwards towards the door, pointing towards the direction of the fight the night before.

Sam suggested he head out with her but Abby put the kibosh to that. After the previous evening, that's all she needed.

"No, you go hang out with Dean for a while. I think he needs some brother time. He doesn't want to talk to me yet and I don't want to push it," she admitted.

"Fine," he sighed. "You know what, you two need to suck it up sometimes. You both are too damn stubborn."

With that fine little observation, Sam headed towards the hotel lobby and Abby headed in the direction of the Salvatore boarding house.

* * *

Dean was walking out the door with coffee in hand, when Sam practically bumped into right him.

"Christ, Sammy," he said, regaining his bearings. "Where's the fire?"

"Nothin' I wast just coming to find you. How was your continental breakfast," his brother inquired.

"French toast, Belgium waffles, Dunkin Donuts - it was pretty exotic compared to what we're used to," he smirked. Dean looked behind Sam, thinking perhaps Abby had followed. After a refreshing cup o'joe and his belly full of food, he was ready to deal with what happened the night before. "Where's Ab? She still in the room?"

Sam shrugged, which meant that he either, one: didn't know where she was located. Or, two: he knew where she was and didn't want to tell him.

Whatever. It was daytime and goddamn it, despite the shitty evening, he was in a good mood. He'd take it; he and Abby would talk later.

"So, Shaggy, what should we do to get this party started," Dean asked Sam.

What they had gathered from history books and internet folklore regarding Mystic Falls was that the town was steeped in vampire lore, much of it relating to a massive vampire invasion in 1864. The town had supposedly gotten rid of all of them, capturing and burning them to death in a nearby church. That obviously related to Stefan and Damon's story the night before. They, and Katherine, had escaped the 'massive vampire extermination.'

Dean and Sam knew that trapping them in the tomb and setting the building on fire wasn't going to do diddily squat. Without a stake or a machete to finish the job, the vamps would have survived, and many did until a few weeks before they arrived.

"We probably should head into town and walk around, see if there any new missing persons signs or anyone suspicious. Maybe check out the library and see if we can get anymore information on the Founders?"

"Didn't Elena say last night that her family was one of the town's founding families," Dean asked, to which Sam answered with a nod. "Maybe we should meet her at school, ask her some more questions, that sort of thing?"

The pair headed to town to scrounge up some much needed clues.

* * *

Knock. Knock.

Now, who could that be?

He smirked. He knew _exactly_ who it was behind the dark stained oak door.

"Abby, what a _nice_ surprise."

She held out her hand, her lips set in a tight line.

"What," he asked with an innocent grin.

"My _phone_," she sighed with exasperation.

"Your phone," he repeated. "What, are you missing it?"

He turned around to walk back into the house, chuckling to himself. She followed him inside.

"I'm exhausted, Damon. I've been up all fucking night and I haven't fed in two days. All I want to do is get my phone back," she asked again.

Damon spun around facing her, strolling backwards towards the cavernous living room, asking why in the world she thought it could possibly be at his humble abode. She went through the list of places it could be and she didn't think she dropped it anywhere outside, which meant she either dropped it at the boarding house or Damon swiped it from her person.

He acted shocked at such allegations and she just rolled her eyes.

"Damon, _my_ _phone_," she growled.

"No need to get testy," he said, pulling it out of his pocket. "Found it in the couch cushions this morning. Must have fallen out when you sat down last night." He tossed to her, she caught it with one hand. "How was your ride home last night?"

She didn't answer. Just what he thought, it hadn't gone well.

"Any word from Vladimir Vampirekof downstairs," she asked.

"Nyet," he replied with a thick accent. "Can't even go down there yet; your hubby poured too much vervain down there. Smooth move."

Abby stood in the hallway, halfway between the living room and the door. She was paying more attention to her phone, looking over its contents to see if Damon had messed with anything. He hadn't changed anything, although there were a few ideas that had passed through his mind. For example, a rather scandalous photo of himself set as her background, he smirked to himself. However, that would surely raise a red flag that he had looked through her content - and now had all her phone numbers saved on his own mobile device. Who knows when that might come in handy?

He stood and watched Abby, her head tilted down towards her phone, dark ebony hair cascading down her back, some tendrils falling forward. She moved her arm to put the long hairs behind her neck, forcing the hair to go over one shoulder. His own fashion statement was mimicked by her own, dark t-shirt, dark denim jeans and biker boats. Nice. She must have felt his eyes on her person; she lifted her chin, her black eyes searching his blue.

"What," she asked.

"You look exactly the same."

"No shit," she snorted. "Wish I could say the same for you. You look like hell."

Guess he would take that as a compliment. He had to have looked better than how he felt.

Abby spun on her heels and headed back out the door.

"What, no 'goodbye' or 'thanks for the phone, I appreciate it, Damon' or 'Damon Salvatore, you're my hero,' " he followed her out the door.

"Thanks," she muttered without looking back.

Damon followed her out the door and inquired as to where she was headed. The answer was town, muttered so softly and briefly that he could barely hear her. He pondered as to why.

"The case. I want to take a look around town, see if I can sense anything different," she said.

He looked around for her car.

"Did you walk here for the hotel," Damon asked, the answer being an annoyed yes. "You are not walking to town, not after getting jumped last night. Come on, I'll give you a ride."

Abby hesitated, asking him what was his angle. No angle, he claimed. In actuality, he was heading into town as well. He needed to catch Stefan at school during his lunch hour, there was something in the library he wanted his brother to check out that may have something to do with their case.

"Oh," she said, surprised by his willingness to help out. "Um, sure."

He grabbed his jacket and headed out to grab his car. Turning the engine over, motor purred. They didn't make Camaros like that anymore. The blue paint glinted in the sun as he pulled the car up the driveway towards the front of the house and a waiting Abby.

Damon set the vehicle in park and reached over the seat, courteously opening the passenger door.

She hesitated a moment before entering the Camaro.

"Come on, hop in," he coaxed. "I promise I won't bite."

* * *

_What the fuck was she doing walking around town with Damon Salvatore?_

That is what Dean would be asking if she saw them together, especially after the events of the previous evening. He didn't trust Damon. Hell, she wasn't sure if _she_ could truly trust him, but nevertheless, there she was walking side-by-side down the main drive by his side.

He waved casually at some townsfolk, who waved back in reply. The wool was pulled over the sheep's eyes. Little did they know, they were waving at someone who could literally bleed them to death in mere seconds.

"I'm not hearing any Klaus convos," he muttered loud enough so only she could hear.

"I need to let my shield down," she sighed, playing with the silver medallion around her neck.

Damon, tilted his head curiously. Yes, he knew she was a telepath and could hear people's thoughts; it was much like how Damon could sneak into dreams. However, at her age, her power was much stronger. She had the ability to use it at will, to catch glimpses into people's most private thoughts any time of day at her command.

After so many years on her own as a vampire, the power had become tiresome. Sure, it was good to hear others...but with that convenience came a cost. With her mind's eye open to everything, it also made her own thoughts accessible to those with similar abilities. Over the years, she learned to created a mental shield, like picturing an invisible mental bubble allowing stuff in but blocking things from going out. It took almost fifty years to get it just right, and even when she was able to accomplish it's creation, it was absolutely exhausting. In some instances, she had collapsed at the strain. The shield was a necessary part of her ability for she was not going to get rid of such an innate power.

However, that power combined with marriage had become quite the problem; a _huge_ moral dilemma.

To prevent any more issues in regards to her mental snooping, she had asked her vampire-witch friend, Gwen, for help. Gwen aided her and created a powerful silver talisman, forged with abilities which created a shield around her with no outside effort on her part. Both ways, to and from, the mind was blocked from any source.

"It's worth a shot," she said, reaching around her neck and unclasping the enchanted necklace.

When the chilled silver was lifted off of her neck, a flurry of thoughts charged her way.

There was a woman on the corner who was on her way to the job she hated, spiteful thoughts about her boss spiraling into Abby's own mind.

The man that drove by was thinking about his wife as he drove to sleep with his secretary on his lunch break.

The school wasn't far away, and a million thoughts emanating about how bored the students were in class and how they wouldn't use any of the knowledge in real life. How wrong those young minds were.

Then, one thought stood out in the midst of the chaos.

'_The young girl found at the edge of town had vampire wounds in her neck. There still must be more that we hadn't gotten rid of yet.'_

Those musings were coming from a woman in police officer's clothes with short blonde hair.

Abby put her silver amulet back around her neck.

"You okay," Damon asked. He was visually surprised that she hadn't gone anywhere near his mind.

She didn't dare. After as many years as she'd been around, she now understood that prying into people's minds that she knew only led to trouble; she usually found more than she bargained for.

"Fine. Who's that," she nodded towards the blonde woman.

"Sheriff Forbes," he whispered. "Why?"

"She's talking about that young woman from the park last night. They found her - and she knows it was a _vampire_," she spoke loud enough so only Damon could hear.

Damon pulled her aside and let her in on something the brothers hadn't told her the night before: within the Founders circle was members that formed a Council. The Council had knowledge about the 1864 vampire attacks that had been passed down for each generation. Each new generation took on the rolls specific to the family. The Lockwoods maintain leadership at the mayoral level, the Forbes maintained order via the Sheriff's department and the Gilberts were in charge of new technology, new ways to fight their kind. That had since changed.

"I kinda-," he began to explain.

"Kinda what, Damon?"

"I kind of have an in with them; the Council thinks I'm on there side. They have no idea of who I really am," he smirked.

Stupid and dangerous. However, she had to admit, it was clever. Very clever.

Damon always had a way of thinking on his feet.

"Be cool," Damon whispered.

Be cool about what?

Abby looked up only to see Sheriff Forbes was headed straight for them.

"Well good afternoon, Liz. And, how are you today," Damon smiled.

"Fine," the sheriff answered in a strained tone. "Damon, can I speak with you alone for a moment?"

"Sure thing, Liz," Damon said, turning to Abby, pointing to her. "_You_, stay right there."

Who did Damon think he was demanding anything out of her?

And yet, to her own surprise, she waited, reminding herself that he may have detrimental information about the case provided by Sheriff Forbes.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Abby spun around, finding Dean and Sam walking along the sidewalk towards her.

"Hey, guys. I thought you were back at the hote -," she began before Sam cut in and explained that they thought they would head on out and get a little more research done.

Dean looked at her, curiosity in his green eyes.

"Find your phone," he asked, the first words he had uttered to her since the night before.

She reached into her pocket and held it up. He nodded.

Abby was about to ask them if they found any vital information when she heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Thanks for your help, Damon. We really appreciate it."

That voice was Liz's. The 'we' must have been in reference to The Council.

"Don't thank me, Liz," Damon said. Abby didn't need to turn around to see the gentle smile he was giving her. No, Liz really shouldn't thank him. "Oh and I forgot to introduce you -"

Damon waved at Dean and Sam and motioned for them to come closer. They moved forward slightly, next to Abby.

"Liz, this is Dean and Sam Whitmore. They're boarding at the house and are our guests for the time being. Boys, this is the Sheriff."

The boys extended theirs hands for a hearty handshake and extended greetings to the woman in charge of the citizens of Mystic Falls.

"Good thing they're in town too, Liz. They understand our - situation," he whispered. "They're here to help."

Her eyes went wide.

"Oh, good. We're always looking for help. Glad to see you around then," Sheriff Forbes acknowledged. "And, who's this?"

She gestured towards Abby.

There was a glimmer in Damon's eyes, which troubled Abby immensely even before he started to speak.

* * *

Damon had thought about it for a moment. How was he going to introduce her?

'_Oh we had this thing back in 1910-"_

'_One night stand girl that is stalking me-"_

'_This is my sister...or cousin...'_

He really had thought about saying either of the latter two; he was down to cousin, but then that goddamn ring glinted in the light.

Once he grabbed Abby's left hand, the decision had been made.

Damon moved next to Abby, putting his arm around her waist. He smirked as he felt Dean's eyes on Abby.

"Surprise and good news, Liz. May I introduce to you, my wife, Abigail Salvatore."


	7. Roll With The Changes

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries." Any other characters not related to Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries or the Nightwold book series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld.". This story involves some characters from my original Supernatural series: The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and a currently untitled 6th story. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes of "Supernatural" or "The Vampire Diaries". There are some particulars mentioned in regards to the TVD Season 2 plot, up through the episode entitled "Katerina". Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. I make no money from these stories; they're only for entertainment._

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Wow it has been entirely too long since I have update. I apologize. My life has been a whirlwind since March. For one thing, I took a writing class because I had tremendous writer's block. I just could not get creative. Second, and most importantly, I found out mid-March that I am pregnant and my husband and I will be expecting our first baby in November. :-) This chapter isn't near as exciting as the rest of it. I have most of the story outlined and it really is getting fun to write again. I hope you all enjoy!  
_

* * *

Abby sat at the table in The Grill beside Damon, his arm lightly wrapped around her waist. She forced a smile across the table at Sheriff Forbes as Damon's fingers precariously traced the outline of her hip.

She shot a quick glance at Dean, who was visibly not amused. He was thankfully keeping his cool for the moment, but she didn't know how long he could keep it up; Dean Winchester wasn't the most patient man that walked the Earth. However, if shutting his trap for a while meant getting information on the case, he would withhold his bitching for a short while. Abby did not want to think about what would transpire once the sheriff departed and it was just Dean and Damon.

"This is rather sudden, Damon," Liz Forbes remarked. "I knew Caroline was smitten by you for a while-"

"It was a crush, Liz. She's a kid. No, this is...something _more_," he grinned at Abby.

Liz pressed for details about how Damon and Abby had met and fallen in love.

"Yeah, how _did_ you two meet," Dean asked as if he was truly interested, but his tone was obviously mocking.

"Oh, you know what they say, Dean. 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,'" Damon chuckled.

Damon continued on about how he and Abby had been friends for a long time and had given a relationship a shot but it didn't pan out and they broke up. They had been young and stupid kids, but now was the right time. They happened to run into each other on a recent vacation and reconnected. One evening in Vegas, they decided to the whole marriage thing a whirl and went down to one of the little chapels on the strip.

With Liz mesmerized by the suave vampire's story about love lost and recovered, Damon lifted Abby's left hand to his lips. She didn't need to look at Dean to know he was fuming.

Abby decided to give her real husband a quick look, one of intent to remind him that it was just a game and they were still there on a fact finding mission. Dean's shoulders loosened, and he grabbed the menu from behind the ketchup.

"Can I see the ring," Liz asked, her eyes gleaming.

"Um, sure," Abby said, moving her hand over the table and presenting it to the sheriff.

"It's just a little something that we got at the Little White Chapel. I'll get her something other than that trinket soon," Damon said.

Abby's heart sunk at his words as she knew the ring that was on her finger was much more than a trinket; it was Dean's mother's'. It was the only tangible memory of her that survived the fire that had destroyed his childhood. It meant the world him and it was hard for Dean to ever part with it under any circumstance.

"Well, _I_ actually love it," Abby looked at her ring in admiration. She gave Dean a sympathetic look across the table. "It's perfect."

"It'll do for now," Damon clipped.

Damon really was playing with fire and he knew it.

"Well, I better get going," the sheriff said, getting up to leave. "Hey, there's this celebration for the town tomorrow. I'd love for you both to come and you two as well." She nodded in Dean and Sam's direction. "It's a formal event up at the Lockwoods."

"We'll be there," Damon smiled. "Take care Liz and let us know if you need help with that...situation."

With a smile and a polite wave, Sheriff Forbes walked away and then the fun really began.

* * *

Sam plopped down on the hotel bed, trying to ignore the silence growing between Abby and Dean.

After the meeting with Sheriff Forbes and Damon's untimely and untrue introduction of Abby, Dean had been quiet. Well, quietly stewing was more like it.

As if on cue, Dean picked up his bag and violently tossed it to the corner.

"What," Abby finally spoke, the tone of her voice full of annoyance.

"Why didn't you say something," he asked.

"What did you want me to say," she retorted.

"Oh, I don't know 'Damon's on crack,' or 'Gee, I'm really with _that_ guy over there,' or anything!"

"He jumped on the idea! I didn't have time," she argued. "Yelling about it now isn't going to make any difference. What's done is done."

"So you're okay with this," Dean spat back. "You're okay with your sorta-ex-boyfriend, that you _claim_ to hate, says that your his wifey?"

Abby turned to Sam, asking him if she had said anything about enjoying being referred to as Damon's spouse. He answered with a resounding no; she hadn't said anything in that regard.

"_See_," she said to Dean.

Dean walked out of the hotel room and slammed the door.

Abby sighed and threw her hands up in defeat.

"I can't win, Sam. I just can't win...I'm going for a walk," she said before making her own dramatic exit, storming out the door.

Sam stretched on one of the full size beds

"What the hell am I doing with these two," Sam said out loud as he tried to relax. He was almost passed out when his phone started to ring.

"Hello," he answered.

"Hi Sam," Abby sighed. "Listen, we have a problem-Damon just called me and Sheriff Forbes is going to drop something off for him. He thinks-he thinks, since we told her we were staying there, that we should actually...stay there."

Oh.

"I need you to do me a favor-and convince your brother."

* * *

Dean just needed to walk and needed some air. He just needed some time to think and regroup.

That's when he ran into him. He was lucky he wasn't alone.

"Well hello," Elena greeted. "Nice to see you again. Hey, you okay?"

He nodded and said he was fine. Damon smirked.

"Oh, cheer up," Damon said. "I was only joking around. I had to come up with _something_."

Stefan and Elena immediately turned to Damon and asked him what he did. Damon feigned innocence but couldn't help but give in and tell them the truth.

"Well, we ran into Sheriff Forbes and she wanted me to introduce the three stooges so I did but I kinda told her that Abby and I are newlyweds."

"_What_," Stefan said.

"That's what I said, plus a few more swears," Dean admitted.

Elena moved closer to Damon to get a good look in his eyes. Suddenly the cocky ass Damon wasn't so cocky. He clearly didn't want to lie to _her_. Did Damon care what Elena thought of him? Huh. Who would have guessed. Dean was learning much more about his wife's ex.

"Why would you do that," Elena asked him.

Damon didn't answer right away, either thinking of a lie or thinking of a way around the fact that he did it just to be a dick.

"Look, it just came out but what's done is done. That's what Liz thinks so we have to roll with it."

Stefan shrugged and mouthed sorry to Dean. Why was he apologizing? Stefan didn't have to; he seemed cool. At least one brother wasn't a complete asshole.

"Wait-isn't Liz coming over tonight," Stefan asked Damon, who said that she was going to stop by and drop off some info on the girl who got killed.

Damon nodded in reply and announced that he had already figured a way to keep her less suspicious: he had called Abby offered that they at the boarding house.

"Look, Dean, I know you might have a problem with it but just think about it. If we have to keep making excuses about why she's not around if she happens to show up at 2am, she's going to figure it out. Liz is sharp. She'll know something is up or at least she'll think she's a vampire and that wouldn't work for any of us. So what do you say? Up for staying there?"

There had to be another way, but-what the douche was saying did make _some_ sense. Let's say Liz was suspicious...if she did show up at random, crazy times of the day and they weren't there...sure one or two excuses would work but then she would figure it out. After all, the sheriff knew enough to figure out there were vampires in town.

* * *

"Ab, that's going to be damn near impossible," Sam sighed. "I don't think it's going to happen. I think we can play it off that we stay here because-"

Abby stopped him mid-sentence and explained that Damon said the sheriff is very mistrusting of anyone new in town, and in the best interest of everyone involved, they should bunk with the vampire brothers. Not only that, but it would help to protect them. After all, whoever was out there had attacked Dean outright.

"Look I'd don't like it anymore than you do, Sam. I fought Damon tooth and nail but he made a good argument," she paused. "If you too want to say you moved out, that's fine, but since he said we're married, I'm rather stuck. If the sheriff shows up and none of my stuff is there-"

Sam sighed and said he would talk with Dean. His phone vibrated, announcing that he was getting another call. Dean's name flashed on the screen.

Speak of the devil.

"I'll talk to you later, Ab," he said, hanging up on his sister-in-law to take his brother's call. "Yeah, what's up Dean?"

"God, I can't believe I'm frickin' saying this-"

"What?"

"Pack up...we're going to be staying at the Salvatores. I'm going to stop you before you say anything because I'm not too comfortable with this either. Just-just pack. I'll meet you there. Let Ab know to get her ass over there too."

Sam hung up, his brow pulled together in confusion.


End file.
